If you know me, you know you don’t often see me in pants. At least real pants, and by real, I’m talking jeans, khakis or dress pants for work.
Some people might think this is because I’m a girly girl and like to dress up in skirts and dresses. While that may be true, the real reason is this:
Pants make me feel fat, yo!
Pants remind me more directly that I might not be at an ideal weight. When my weight fluctuates, real pants don’t “go with it” like my yoga pants, leggings, and most skirts and dresses do. Real pants have strict sizes and they either fit or they don’t… most times, don’t.
There’s been some backlash on women who attempt to wear yoga pants or leggings as real pants. When it comes from me, it’s largely jealousy. And sometimes it’s hard not to want to wear them when they make so many fun ones now! Case in point — my friend Michelle, who must be keeping those companies in business because she has about a billion pairs. But they actually look cute on her. Even so, she’s not really up to wearing them out out, although she told me she’s recently been testing the waters with that a bit. Go Michelle!
Sometimes I test the waters, too, even unplanned. I mean you never know… one day you’re just going out “for a quick beer” after dance class, so you just throw on a long sweater over your yoga pants. No big deal, right? It’s not like you had any idea you were going to end up karaoking with a live band and your friend was going to put the video of it on Facebook?! Thankfully, it was pretty dark. I might have been wearing “real” pants. Sure.
My ex used to look down on me quite a bit if I attempted to wear yoga pants out of the house if I wasn’t going to the gym. It was sort of ironic because he spent literally ALL DAY working from home in front of the computer and sometimes never changed out of his PJs… but I digress.
Weekends are the best in part because there’s little pressure to ever think about real pants. I can stay in sweats all day. Or I can forgo pants altogether! I can eat those nachos and pretend like nothing is happening to my waistline!
When I do actually go out in real pants and somehow end up in photographs, it quickly reminds me why it’s a bad idea:
And how ’bout that Marla Hooch? What a hitter!
Also, fun fact, those pants pictured above split in the crotch this summer while I was biking. It made me feel GREAT!
The only thing worse than pants is SHORTS. Ack! Might need a separate entry on that one.
Who let me out like this, seriously?!
And let me tell you something else — if you’re some kind of angel that’s thinking, oh, you’re not that bad! Welllllll my nickname in high school was Tankass, and my mom’s was Thunder Thighs. So guess what? That stuff gets in your head for ALL OF ETERNITY.
Only Freddie Mercury can make me feel better now and again:
And OK, sure, it’s not like you can’t tell my real weight at all from skirts and dresses, and not all of those are always going to fit, either. But generally, I feel like I’m presenting a better image to the world, and maybe that’s in part because they are “dressier” sometimes. Who knows. Who cares? Not me, cuz I’m happy to be hiding under this kinda thing.