Sigh. Ladies, it's a shirt. That top you're wearing, the one you think is a dress, the one you're wearing without pants, without shorts, without so much as a pair of knee-length leggings underneath ...

Yes, you. I'm talking to you. You know who you are. And I'm telling you this because someone has to. Because that's what friends do.

Because, obviously, your girlfriends, the ones you were out with Saturday night in Hess Village, the ones who looked like they'd finished dressing, the ones who wore actual, real frocks or at the very least short shorts (a whole other column in itself) or at the very, very least a micromini skirt -- um, ya. They don't like you.

Not enough to tell you the truth. Not enough to save you from the shame of going outside looking half-dressed. And I don't mean half-naked, I mean half-dressed. Because to venture out in a pair of red sequined boy-short panties and tank would at least be better. (Something I've actually seen someone wearing in Hess. For real.) At least it's a look. At least it's a statement. At least it looks like you meant to do that. OK, fine -- not a good look, but still a look.

The long shirt as a dress, though? You might as well have attached toilet paper to your shoe and tried to convince us it's the height of fashion.

And I get it. I mean, girls are bitches. Girls are passive- aggressive -- some more than others. And the ones who let their friends venture out looking like that are the same ones who get a secret tiny, little charge out of letting their friends venture out looking like that.

The same girls who will phone their other girlfriends the very next day for a debrief of the evening, including (and this item will come second only to discussing who they might've hooked up with the previous night) telling them what a skank so-and-so is -- you should've seen what she was wearing.

You can protest all you want, but any girl worth her stilettos knows this is what's going down in Girl World.

These are the same girls who insist on decorating their very good friend, the bride-to-be, in tiny little naked penises (again, another phenomenon of Hess Village on a Saturday night in the summer).

So she's getting married. Why does she have to be carrying a sparkly, feathered wand topped with a rubber, naked penis? What is this meant to say? She's marrying him, so now she's got his penis on a stick? Like in Lord of the Flies when whatshispants held up the pig's head on a stick, as a symbol of victorious conquest? That's nice.

But that's the whole point of the bachelorette party, isn't it? To humiliate the bride? Because she has the audacity to get married before her other bitchy girlfriends? So they attach a veil to her head, woven with some more tiny, little naked penises. I guess the idea is to get her used to seeing them in tiny form so that she's not so disappointed when she sees the real thing.

Because it seems to me that if you're decorating the bride in tiny, little penises, you're at about the same maturity level as boys who make fart jokes all day. So maybe the bride's never seen one before? Why shower the bride in tiny, naked penises? Why?

In any case, in the group of bitchy girls, there will be one who's secretly seething with jealousy. There's always one. One of those girls will be wishing she was the one being showered with penises. She wants to be the centre of attention. She wants to have everyone looking at her.

So she hops over to the mall and tries on a bunch of different tops and ultimately decides wearing a skirt or pants or short shorts with the long top would be just too many clothes. And her other bitchy girlfriends tell her she looks great, she looks hot.

She may not be the one getting married, but she's totally gonna pick up. And she probably will, too. Mainly because she's not wearing any pants and that's a pretty clear message. And, at some point in the evening, she'll also end up holding the bride's penis wand, and that's quite a visual right there.

So all this to tell you that if you're having trouble telling the difference between a dress and a shirt, here's a clue: If the hemline barely grazes your pubic bone, if bending over invites all kinds of attention, flies and cool breezes ... um, ya. It's a shirt.

And if you do go out looking like that, please use the money you saved on not buying pants and invest in a pair of red sequined boy-short panties. Or at the very least a good bikini wax.

snadler@thespec.com