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For those of you just joining us, we've been dedicating our free time this summer to stamping out the furry, absurd, fashion-damaged menace that is the Ugg boot. It's been a bloody struggle marked by incremental victories and soul-crushing losses, but the fight continues. This missive from the Defamer correspondent on misguided trends adopted in flyover country gives us some new hope that the Ugg problem can finally be killed off. L.A.'s fashion victims: You wouldn't want to look like some trophy wife from Winnetka out on a shopping binge on the Magnificent Mile, would you? Maybe it's finally time to drop your Uggs off at Goodwill and invest some of your hard-earned tip money on the new, shaggy hottness before they wind up in Cleveland.

I have greatly enjoyed your summer-long coverage of L.A.'s harrowing UGG-ification. I have laughed my ass off thinking of all those skinny little blonde AMW's mindlessly wearing shoes a Sherpa would be hard pressed to love. Honestly, as a Chicagoan, I felt superior. We level headed Mid-Westerners don't fall for silly shit like that. Right?

Wrong. Over the course of three days last week, I saw four young women wearing the damn things. The weather was 85+ with humidity that makes a rainforest look comfortable.

While looking at a skirt at the local mall, the Sales Babe said to me, "That skirt would look totally cute with your Uggs." "I don't own a pair of Uggs," I replied, but from the look on her face, I think my tone of voice was more along the lines of "I would sooner ear my first born than wear those ugly fucking boots, bitch!"

I panicked a bit. This simply could not be happening in Chicago. Last summer, we politely said no to neon. Only our youngest and dumbest wear trucker hats. We've even managed to monogram in moderation. (A purse—perhaps. An $80 t-shirt—no.) Could we be falling into the grips of Ugg? To the malls, post haste!

Here's what I found:

Lord & Taylor: Not sure how this store still exists. I've never seen so much expensive crap packed into a space that resembles a garage sale at Sears. No Uggs, though. But they did have a pair of Coach heeled clogs with something that resembled Yak fur for trim. A real steal at $200.

Marshall Fields: A Chicago institution. They had a small Uggs display. I watched for five minutes and
everyone walked right by it.

Saks: No shoe department! What the hell? A heavily Botoxed and completely bored clerk told me to check out the outlet store in the basement. There was tons of ugly down there, but no Uggs.

Bloomingdales: Nothing in the tiny shoe department, however Contemporary Women's had a whole section devoted to Ugg. Pictures simply do not do the Ugg poncho justice. It is wayyyy past ugly. Pocahontas had better clothing. The logo is monstrous—a big triangle patch of cowhide sewn in the center. On the upside, the smell of the jackets, ponchos, and skirts brought back a lovely childhood memory of a trip to Tucson where I got to ride horses for a week.

Nordstrom: Shoppers are faced with a giant Ugg display upon entry. All styles. All colors. I was literally dumbstruck by a hot pink, insanely fluffy, knee-high boot. It looked like someone slaughtered a Muppet. As I stood frozen with fear, a gentlemanly clerk came over.

Clerk: Would you like me to get these in your size?

Me: Oh dear God no. Are people buying these?

Clerk: We are sold out in many sizes.

Me: You mean women, grown women, not just stupid teenagers, are buying these?

Clerk: Lots of women. I guess you could call them Soccer-Mom types. We have skirts and ponchos upstairs.

A part of me finds this amusing. I very much hope to someday see a gaggle of 40-something soccer moms dressed like flamboyantly gay Abominable Snowmen with keys to an SUV.

Yet, another part of me is so very, very sad. What's next for the Mid-West? Today Ugg boots and ponchos; tomorrow cosmetics on our men and Paris Hilton mini-skirts for our elderly? Will we be lured into the sordid world of $350 Marc Jacobs moon boots with our justification being "at least here we get snow?"

Damn you, L.A. Damn you to hell.