OPINION: Recently I've been having a giggle over the trend of sandal straps being tied over the pants of celebrities such as Emily Ratajkowski, Kylie Jenner and Katy Perry. It looks frankly ridiculous, as if these women put their shoes on in the dark.
But it's perhaps not as titter-worthy, if you'll excuse the pun, as the whole underboob phenomenon I've been noting of late, where tops and/or bras don't quite cover, leaving breast undercarriage showing.
This most uncomfortable look has been sported by the likes of Miley Cyrus and Kendall Jenner overseas and slavishly adopted in Australia by "Instagram stars" such as Tammy Hembrow and Married at First Sight bride Martha Kalifatidis.
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Hell, ASOS and Pretty Little Thing are now selling tops that don't make it over the boobs. Yes, clothing that purposely doesn't fit is now "in".
Considering the clothes of mine that have seemingly shrunk in my wardrobe from last season, perhaps I am ahead of the trend; for once in my life I am fashion-forward. However, should you see me with my boobs hanging out, please feel free to have me committed – I will have surely lost any remaining grip on my sanity and self-respect.
You see, I find fashion fads silly, ridiculous even. This is me at my kindest about an industry that continuously churns out disposable clothing that some poor bugger in a Third World country slaves over for us to enjoy for a wear or two, then ditch when another "must-have" look is decreed.
It's an industry designed to make women feel they must keep up or be shamed for not being current while sending emaciated models down runways in dresses that will likely cost more than their first car.
Look, I know clothes can be fun, and dressing should be an enjoyable part of self-expression. However, what I can't cop is being told what I should be wearing and when. To me, this is the antithesis of style; the subjugation of individuality.
True style is knowing your body, what clothing suits it best, and dressing in a way that projects your personality. It's about deciding how you want to be seen, about expressing yourself, not conceding to a jury of ever-changing opinions.
When I worked in women's mags, I saw how ridiculous the slavish following of fashion can be, with a trip in the lift a sartorial version of the bar scene in Star Wars. The young fashionistas would get in looking as if they had just rummaged in a skip, blindfolded, and put on whatever they found.
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There would be panda eyes from the latest make-up fad that made them look as if they'd been in a brawl, and there would be tissue-thin slithers of silk dresses worn in winter (best to be ahead of the trends by a season at least!), accessorised with goosebumps.
At the time, I found it amusing. But as I became better educated about what was really going on, it became quite tragic. All those handbags were designer and probably cost several months' salary, only to be considered passé before they were even paid off.
Most of the girls were alarmingly skinny (possibly the only fashion dictate that never changes), terribly insecure (so many tears in store rooms about nothing to wear to a catwalk show) and painfully poor (they believed a fake could be detected at 100 paces).
And often, as I followed these girls out of the office and into the real world, I would note the looks they received from punters who were not fashion-educated, often detecting a laugh or hearing a "check her out!".
I can only imagine what sort of comments girls sporting their shoes tied around the legs of their pants are receiving today, or the looks those with the bottom of their boobs bouncing out of their too-small T-shirts will cop.
And I wonder how they will look back on such fashion follies and whether they will see themselves as chic or stupid. Because while underboob may be in now, it's a sure bet that bare breasts will be so over by next season.
