I sat in the backseat of my parents Honda—age six—offended by the argument my nine-year-old sister had written out for my parents:

"Why I Should Be Able to Wear Pants to Synagogue: An essay by Sara Friedlander." It was perfectly executed. "First, they're not jeans, but made from velvet," she began, "therefore they are fancy." She wanted to wear a pair of deep purple, elastic waist leggings to shul instead of our usual knee length black dresses. "Second, it's 1993 and women and men should be equal. My dad, Lee Friedlander, wears pants to synagogue so I should be able to as well." It was a work of elementary-age egalitarian advocacy, and I could not for the life of me understand it. I lived for my patent leather mary jane flats, faux pearl necklace (hey, I was six!), and fancy dress. Leggings? Not. Chic.

Years later, when I was accepted to boarding school, I was thrilled to learn I had a dress code: collared shirts and no jeans. "We must go to Ralph Lauren immediately, mom!" My mother was excited I had gotten into a respectable high school with a strong academic curriculum; my excitement stemmed from the fact that I was headed for a school that did not allow pajamas to be worn to class. At my last school, my peers wore baggy sweatpants to English and math and seemed to relish it. Some proudly wore their father's scrubs. And on standardized testing days, it was a complete free-for-all.

I, on the other hand, maintained my tailored look: well fitted jeans when I was feeling casual with a blazer. At age 12. From the Brooks Brothers children's section. For as long as I can remember, I've always favored dressier clothes.

Karl Lagerfeld once reportedly opined "Sweatpants are a sign of defeat. You lost control of your life so you bought some sweatpants." I do tend to agree—there's a sense of defeat and of not-caring that clings to this type of clothing. When I see people leave their houses in the morning to grab a cup of coffee still in last night's sweats, I wonder why they simply couldn't throw on a boyfriend jean and a sweater.

Fashion, even the most everyday variety, should be about imagination. One of the reasons I love working in this industry and flipping through the pages of magazines like ELLE is for all the incredible clothing, most of which I'll never own: embellished Valentino gowns, wide leg trousers by The Row, intentionally tattered Proenza Schouler jackets. Celebrities, of course, are the ones who will wear these clothes on the red carpet and off. When they wear them, they give us a glimpse of what it's like to have such access to these pieces.

Which is why I scratch my head when I see them opting to wear leggings as pants instead of, well, pants as pants.

There are times, of course, when leggings are appropriate. When going to the gym, leggings and sweatpants of any kind are totally okay. I personally own a pair of leggings from American Apparel that I wear on airplanes and consider to be a sort of safety blanket. I've heard that when pregnant, leggings are a savior, although I cannot personally attest to that.

But leggings with high heels? Leggings with a blazer? Leggings, just because? And leggings on celebrities, the very people we rely on to preserve some of the fantasy of fashion? Why?

Why not opt for a black jean if you're going for a fitted pant look? Or a baggy boyfriend cut, if a cozy cut is what you desire! There are plenty of options that keep you looking chic and buttoned up.

But please, and yes, Kendall, I'm speaking to you: Your body is amazing, and yes, you look fucking great in leggings in a way that most mortals cannot. But with designers like Olivier Rousteing, Nicolas Ghesquière, and even Karl Lagerfeld himself begging to dress you, why not go with some real pants?

Ruthie Friedlander Deputy Editor As the deputy editor of ELLE.com, Ruthie supports all ELLE.com content, with a close focus on all things tech related as well as sponsored content.

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