Proud though I may be to sing loud the “judge not lest ye be judged” maxim, I’ve rolled my share of eyes at the occasional overzealous fedora, out-of-season Hawaiian shirt, or all-too-in-character pair of Sperrys. But when it comes down to brass tacks, I’d never deign to think it my right to tell another soul how they should or shouldn’t present their body. Your own are the only standards necessary to satisfy by the way you dress; what others wear should be understood solely as a communication of their preferred patterns and fabrics. In short, dress and let dress.

So if you really do want to wear a bikini made entirely from the ingredients of pizza—an opportunity now at your disposal courtesy of a New York-based franchise called Villa Italian Kitchen—well, by all means. Go for broke. Live the life you fancy. I’d never tell you not to, and I’ll do my very best not to fester with absolute disgust if I catch sight of you soaking in solar radiation while entangled in two fleshy husks of baked dough and dairy coagulate.

There is, however, one catch (well, one catch beyond whatever bacterial cataclysm might result from encasing your organic form in dual sleeves of molded yeast and melting mozzarella, and topping off this considerably adhesive recipe with a healthy sum of beach sand–which, really, is just a cozy word for “nightmarish universe of unknown microscopic horrors”–and the litter that such realms so eagerly attract): a single suit will run you 10 grand.

“For just $10,000,” as Villa Italian Kitchen posts on their new press release advertising what some cultures herald as the seventh sign of the apocalypse, “we’ll set you up with our food stylist and help you get fitted for your own suit made from only the freshest ingredients, including homemade, hand-braided dough, 100-percent whole milk mozzarella cheese, sauce made from fresh California tomatoes and delicious pepperoni – all in honor of #NationalBikiniDay.” Legitimate though the offer may sound, if you ask me, this is just another indication that #NationalBikiniDay has gotten way too commercial.

But if you’ve got enough cash, harbor in your heart so indomitable a love for both pizza and abbreviated swimwear, and have committed to ignoring what is the most paralyzing question that should face anyone upon consideration of this issue–WHAT ABOUT SEAGULLS?!?!?!?–then what can I say? Go nuts. Slap on two slabs of agronomic puddy and buffalo lactate and enjoy some beach volleyball and a copy of Swing Time. Do what makes ya happy.

…Okay, please don’t. Wear anything else. Just not this.

Images: Villa Italian Kitchen