Growing up in coastal California, the uniform for all genders was shorts and a hoodie, often of the Mexican variety.
Now I’m old and my shorts wearing habit is apparently dad mode.
Whatevs with the dad thing. Be comfortable.
It’s always amused me that there is this bizarre (to me) subculture that is militantly anti-shorts. It’s always someone from like Scotland or New Hampshire. My dude, I’m not wearing pants in Florida from April to October unless I have a funeral, wedding (maybe!), court appearance, or in-person business event. And I’m only wearing socks if God appears and instructs me to do so in person–which, given I am entirely unreligious, isn’t much of a risk.
Today is the first I’ve ever heard of anti shorts. The world is weird, man.