Anyway, I thought about what would be the polar opposite of a gloomy post on mortality and it hit me… stretchy pants!
My friends can vouch for me on this, but I’m a devout believer in leggings. To me, they are a wardrobe essential.
Literally every day that I’m not in a swimsuit or a sundress, leggings are my bottoms of choice. It’s funny because I like to think I’m “better” than stretch pants in a lot of ways. I’m hopeful that within me there is some sort of sophisticated, urbane fashion sense, but then… then there just… isn’t.
I typically associate leggings with:
- Obese people
- Jappy girls
- Small children
- Yoga instructors
I am none of these things. And yet… somehow I can’t say no to leggings. There is nothing as silky soft and forgiving as Lululemon’s wunder unders. They make me a happy gal.
Lots of holier-than-thou critics use leggings as an example of our declining cultural morals. From the way school administrators harp on leggings as a symbol of all that is wrong with today’s youth, you’d think they were the direct cause of a) teen pregnancy b) gay marriage, and c) nuclear war. (And to that I say, a) possibly, b) doubtful, and c) certainly not). In other words, a seemingly innocent piece of fabric is ridiculously controversial.
But I don’t care. There is nothing more comfortable than leggings. Anyone who says a pair of jeans are ohmygod-so-comfortable-seriously-they’re-just-like-wearing-leggings is LYING. I have never put on a pair of pants with a button that comes CLOSE to the comfort of my leggings.
So I’m not sure if this is a rant or an apology or a little bit of both, but despite my backwards fashion sense, I’m not going to relinquish these stretchy leg coverings for cooler clothes any time soon.