Moratorium on Midriffs

On a typical day walking down any street in Manhattan (or I suppose, in any of the boroughs - I just happen to notice it mostly in Manhattan b/c I'm there 85% of my week), you will encounter the most hideous trend this side of the LiveStrong bracelet (oooh... too soon?! fine, the fem-dyke mullet) - the bulging midriff.

Yes, folks, for some reason, these poor women wake up in the morning, go to their closets and pull out a tight, midriff-baring tee that may or may not have a cute and/or offensive saying like "Ms. Timberlake" or "I'm a Bitch" or "I Stole Your Boyfriend" airbrushed on it. They then proceed to squeeze into the too-small tee with the aid of the Jaws of Life, manuveuring into positions not even mentioned in the Kama and sweating like a bikram yoga session. They take a triumphant look in the mirror, either not noticing or not caring about the spillover of pudge between their back-pocketless jeans and the tee, grab their purses and saunter out the door, ready to reveal their tummy rolls to the City.

Why I am so anti-bulge? Because it's just gross. The only people who should MAYBE be revealing their stomachs to the public are those who have spent the time in the gym and time watching their diets and have worked hard enough to earn a presentable, mostly flat tummy. And it should be tan.

Those are just my standards. And with this outrage and disgust, I propose a moratorium on bulgy midriffs. I apologize, ma'am, but you really shouldn't be wearing that tee. It's far too tight and far too small. No no - please put down the Cinnabon and frothy latte, and come with me to the Sports Club. You will LOVE. PROMISE.

Am I wrong for this? I think not. Frankly, NYC spends a lot on city beautification - shouldn't my moratorium on midriffs make the agenda this year??

Just give me some money, Bloomberg. The bulge-fighters will make your City pretty again.