I have no doubt that "fashion designers" go, "Hold my beer..." before they trot out some ridiculous thing and declare it all the rage.
One of the things I love best about being over 50 is that I can wear whatever I want and don't have to be "fashionable". I thought that would happen when I turned 40, then they changed the rules on me. But 50 was that magic number where I can dress for comfort and take pity on the girls tottering in stilettos while surreptitiously tugging at the pants riding up their ass crack.