I’m probably not the most fashion-forward man you’ll ever meet, but I like to think I know how to dress myself. I also like to think I stay up to date on trends, I don’t feel weird about observing solid outfits out in the wild, and since there aren’t too many fashion trends to which I show allegiance (outside of “Levi’s everything” and “Flannel is probably appropriate everywhere that isn’t a wedding or a funeral”), I don’t really have an issue calling things for what they are.

And that’s why I must insist that nobody ever—EVER—wear baggy shorts below the knee again. Ever. Ever? Ever! Here’s why.

1. They aren’t even comfortable.
Baggy shorts honestly aren’t comfortable. You know it, I know it and all the people who woke up to 75-degree weather and thought, “Oh man, let me grab my cargo shorts!” now know it, too.

They don’t give you any more “air” or “room” than a proper pair of fitted shorts would, they can lead to chafing and, yes, they feel weird. You may not know how weird they feel until you’ve worn a regular pair of shorts, but trust me when I tell you that they feel weird. The mere thought of the constant “swooshing” of fabric makes me shudder.

2. Unless you’re a carpenter, the extra baggage serves no purpose.
Baggy shorts are unnecessary. If you’re a grown man with a need for any more than three pockets (and I’ll even generously give you four), you need to get your damn priorities straight. You need one for a wallet and/or a billfold, one for your phone and one for everything else—keys, cigar cutter, EDC gear, etc.

But that’s it. You don’t need a pocket for spare field dressings or maps (for which the cargo short pockets were originally invented), you don’t need room for any extra nails you’re not using at the job site, and you sure as shit don’t need to carry around extra seeds for planting. Who do you think you are—Johnny Appleseed?

3. You’ll look like a child.
I’d dare say there are two types of males who wear cargo pants: children who want to be children, and men who want to appear younger than they are. I can give kids a pass because they don’t know shit about how to dress themselves anyway, but I refuse to let it slide when a grown man wants to relive his ill-advised college days.

You’re a young professional, you don’t drink Natty Light on Tuesday mornings anymore (and hopefully you never did), and you pay taxes now—dress like it! Getting old can be done with style and grace. I promise.