A trendy young persons’ bar in Washington, D.C., is throwing a Yoga Pants Party. Once upon a time, when people took off their damn hats in the elevator, you had to shimmy yourself into some bespangled mini-outfit to go to the club, but no more. Now you can just go straight from pajama-town or exercise class or your afternoon laze-about. What’s more, if you are wearing the finest — nay, the “HOTTEST YOGA PANTS,” you can win a $500 prize. It seems booty-gazing trumps comfy-coziness.
(By the way, there are twelve to thirteen fonts on this poster, in case you didn’t think this was an event with vision.)