Leggings for the legless

I spent 10 minutes loitering in Rundle Mall at lunchtime today. I never fail to be bemused by watching my fellow humans.

For example, have you ever noticed that some days you see a lot of people with no legs? Obviously by "a lot", I mean "two or more", since most days you don't see anyone with no legs. Is the increase caused by one of those nasty diseases the cigarette packets keep banging on about? (Speaking of which, is it only me, or do the gangrenous toe and the cancerous mouth make other people feel ill? I'm not usually of such weak constitution, but I can't stand to have a pus-adorned ciggie box on the table at a cafe when I'm eating. And I don't even smoke! The clogged artery doesn't bother me, but the asthmatic child is my favourite - she just looks slightly tragic and consumptive a la Emily Dickinson. Actually, can't you see freaky little kids trading the packet tops like football cards? "I'll give you a festy toe for a manky mouth." "Nah, I've got four festy toes already. Don't you have a bloody eye?" But, yet again, I digress.)

Back on topic, what about guys wearing hair bands? I know it's a bit gender-Nazi, but that one bugs me. Today I saw a guy wearing a stretchy black hairband, similar to one I used to own in the late '80s. He was of beautifully exotic complexion and very nattily turned out in a suit, but there it was: a hairband holding back a luxuriant 'fro and ruining the whole effect. Metro really has gone too far. Please, Ford, don't let the boys start wearing Alice bands! I will not be able to cope. Watching cinch belts, leggings and bubble skirts come back into style has been traumatic enough. Next it will be fluro socks, Choose Life T-shirts, lace gloves and legwarmers. For boys.

Speaking of horror couture, there were, as always, fashion victims aplenty in the Mall today. More like fashion roadkill, really. I probably should preface this torrent of abuse by admitting that I have zero fashion sense and no idea of how to look edgy and cool. After all, I did get trapped in a dress not so long ago. I can match black with black, add some funky earrings and that's about as far as it goes. I really only like wearing jeans, boots of varying lengths and black stuff.

Anyway, despite me being a fashtard myself, I still have enough:

• sense to know what not to wear (hopefully);
• sense to know that frou frou always looks crap; and
• arse to say that chicks who make questionable clothing choices deserve what what one of my mates refers to as a fashion crash tackle.

Don't like the look of that dress worn with jeans? Think a white balloon skirt with a heavy leather belt, knee-high fishnets and gold pumps is just a bit beyond the pale? Reckon those pink ugg boots look crap with a skimpy summer frock? Can't stand this whole trend for formal shorts? If you're still not sure what I'm talking about, visit the Fug Girls for some celebrity examples. If, on the other hand, you know exactly what I mean, see it every day and are duly horrified, then you too can be an honorary member of the Fashion STAR Force. It's great being a Fashion Starrie. You get a little silver star for your handbag and everything. Now you've got the badge, it's your duty to take out fashion offenders with a flying pounce, much like what Hobbes does to Calvin when he's not looking.

But sorry - you're not allowed to crash tackle the legless, even if they are male and wearing hair bands. Come on, it's just not nice.