These bottoms are tops.

There's a handful of people at work who I genuinely like and have fun conversations with, and today I said to one of them (because I'm wearing at work the same thing I've been wearing all day -- seersucker long shorts, t-shirt, sneakers, which is probably going to be almost the same thing I wear tomorrow, too): "in case you are wondering, these aren't shorts [which are prohibited by office dress code], these are capri pants." and she said, "ma-pri pants?" and I said, "how about man diggers?"

Speaking of terms for the various forms of shorts and short pants, as a child, my mom would often supplement my wardrobe with handsewn clothes, partly as her hobby, partly as a money saver, and she always would try and push me to wear the culottes she sewed for me, and I just couldn't do it, even with my propensity for people-pleasing, sucking-it-up skills, I had some limits. And it was those culottes. I have some regrets in life. My refusals are not part of them.