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So to all the chicks with whom I work who cannot bear to imprison their knees inside a fabric cell, I offer these. The cropped pant. A close cousin to the short short, but long enough to demonstrate that you know the difference between your office and Central Park. These flare out enough to ensure that no one will think you're wearing your little sister's pants. And they're available in more sizes at the store, on the off-chance that you don't wear a size 0.
Think about it. Do you really want to expose your naked thighs to the petri dish that is a New York City subway seat? There's no cure for some of what's on there.
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