It was the black foil snakeskin leggings that put me over the top. (I’m looking at you bluefly.com.) A steal at only $42. Retail value $70! In what demented, Prozac-addled universe? No, seriously. You tell me who is going to pay $70 for reflective foil snakeskin that, as an added feature, is tight enough to highlight every bump, lump and panty line.

Those things are too trashy for a coked-up, ex-stripper in a biker bar letting some guy named Bobo do body shots off her C-section scar.

Can we just agree, for one freaking fashion season, not to attempt to sell me stupid crap? It can be ugly. It can be unflattering. It can be flammable, poorly made and in violation of several trade agreements, but can it please just not be stupid?

Example: Gucci is attempting to sell me “black alpaca snow boots” that look exactly as though you wrestled the abominable snowman, hacked off his feet at the calf, dipped them in tar and shoved your precious tootsies into the bloody stumps. Retail: $995.

Only slightly less attractive are the “gray pinstripe wool ‘Louise’ smocked shorts” that poof out around your ass and hips like a pair of itchy bloomers. Retail: $264

And please, let me be absolutely clear about this. Rompers are only acceptable if you drink your milk from a sippy cup and need help with your diaper change. Whatever your age.

I have only one piece of advice for anyone braving a high-end, designer shop this fall who finds herself facing a wall of reflective snakeskin. I know you’re tired. I know you just need some pants. I know you have to be at work on Monday, but ask yourself this: “What would Audrey Hepburn do?”

Then put the snakeskin down. (You could also maybe spit on it. Audrey Hepburn wouldn’t do that, but cosmically, I think you’re in the clear.)