Today's guest blog post is from a lovely young lady who apparently just can't stop writing for me. During my senior year of college, I was the Editor-In-Chief for a little niche publication on the University of Missouri's campus. The paper highlighted Greek life and all the happenings of sorority and fraternity days. Claire, today's guest blogger, was on my staff. It should be noted that her stories involved virtually little to no editing. And they were always in on time. Now chasing a career in magazine journalism, Claire finds herself living life in New York City-- an experience that has helped her hone her writing skills and her ability to judge. In today's post, Claire points out that sometimes a pair of supposedly stylish jorts can be much more of a joke.

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It's hot and humid here in New York and there's no better time for airy dresses, bare arms and light, breathable fabrics. This weather also signals that touchy time of year when women must decide just what to put on their legs. Some choose skirts -- mini, flowing, patterned or plain -- while others opt for the all too slippery slope of shorts.

Sure, shorts are the practical option. Who wants to worry about flashing your lady parts on the subway? But when they don't fit perfectly (which is all too often the case) they're dangerously unflattering. The most offensive culprit? Denim shorts.

These jean mini-pants range from knee-length to non-existent, and come in an array of washes and rippage. Rippage? See photo. Yes, someone out there is paid to rip holes in your jeans just so you can pull off the Olsen twins' trademarked look: sloppy chic.

I digress.

New Yorkers have embraced the jean short spectrum, but what are most disturbing are the shorts' hideous half-sister: the high-waisted jean shorts. These are the thorns of the fashion world and should go the way of their cousin, acid washed denim. To anyone considering a high-waisted purchase, please reconsider.

In fact, the lines created by these pants (think: a deep V outlining your pelvic region in front and nearly the same image in back) are so distracting that I often find myself openly gawking. More plainly, there is absolutely NO body that can make this fashion tragedy work. And I've done the leg work (Ha! Punny!). Living across from Union Square means I'm privy to a catwalk of all sorts of hipsters, model wannabes, and the fashionably adventurous-- which is fine. But this also means that I see about 20 offending pairs of jorts a day traipsing about the streets, forcing everyone's eyes to the fact that their inseam is measured in millimeters.

So, when choosing a pair of shorts, try for something with an inseam of at least three inches and in a dark wash. And leave the high-waisted version in the closet, or better yet, the trash can.

Want to read more about Claire's life? Check out her blog here.