Something to keep in mind.

There are two words in the English Language I detest above all others:  Heat Wave*.

Every year, in early July, my lovely little corner of the world is hit by that mean, fiery orb in the sky.  It turns my skin to a bright, lobsterish shade of red (regardless of sunscreen).  It makes everyone reek of body odour, as their baggy metallica T-shirts cling to hairy flesh.  And it encourages women who have no place wearing revealing clothing to... well... wear revealing clothing. 

Even in an office place.  "Short shorts" have no place in an office space!  The building is air conditioned.  Wear a nice dress.  Or a skirt.  I have no problem with that.  But I *do* have a problem when you wear shorts cut up to your butt crack, a two-dollar pair of old-navy flip flops, and a tank top that barely covers your bra.

I realize this is very unstereotypical male of me, but when I'm dying of heat exhaustion, the last thing I want to see is half-naked wimmin flesh, reminding me of the fact that, in normal situations, I'd be "all over that shit, yo". 

Were you to dress like a bottle of gatorade, you'd be my new best friend. 

Something to keep in mind. 

*(Contenders for this position also include "Easy Listening", "I'm tired", and "Avatar's Awesome")