Zack: This is pretty much the end of the line for sexy women's costumes. They've completely run out of ideas so they're just taking anything they can find and adding some bare midriff.
Dr. Thorpe: I'm not exactly sure what this costume is supposed to be. A hot jockey?
Zack: Yeah, I think it's a jockey. Although technically she should have riding pads on the thighs of her jodhpurs and those boots are totally inappropriate for horseback riding. The heel could get caught in even breakaway stirrups.
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, they just take any profession and add some skin. Sexy gas station attendant? Sexy IRS auditor?
Zack: I think they need to have more sexy astronaut and deep sea diver costumes. Just a full puffy astronaut suit or one of those hard metal articulated deep dive suits with a bare midriff and maybe some cleavage showing. It'll be like a Heavy Metal cover.
Dr. Thorpe: Those are a little too interesting, I'm sure they've been done before. By now, they're probably down to "sexy vending machine restocker."
Zack: Maybe they're on the cusp of getting increasingly specific. Like instead of "sexy scientist" they'll have like "sexy botanist" and "sexy particle physicist."
Dr. Thorpe: "Sexy cop" will give way to "sexy internal affairs officer" and "sexy plainclothes detective."
Zack: "Sexy Nurse" will branch off into "Sexy Assisted Living Nurse" and "Sexy Hospice Attendant" and "Sexy Floor Nurse."
Dr. Thorpe: It'll come full circle when it gets to "sexy fake prostitute from a prostitution sting operation." That one will be hard to pull off.
A guide to the loud, large men who will be filling our living room weekly.
He has unlocked the secrets of the universe and seen beyond the mortal plane, yet Doctor Strange can't believe how easy it is to eat an olive.
Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.