Thanks for the tuxedos, Baby. Evening trousers were genius; if it baffled gender relations even further, we actually got through it. The liberation from the party wear of uncooperative support pantyhose and poofy icky dresses is on par with bra burning and the banishment of inhumane corsetry.
From someone who has not entirely soberly hung upside down on monkey bars at 2 AM after a fancy dress up party, the state of my underwear remained privileged information and a grateful world should thank you.
Thank for unleashing some wearable glamour into the 1970s. Otherwise it might have been a decade of complete disaster.
From a couple decades ago: a very stylish shop lady's instruction: Vees San loor rAUnt