When did I resort to "comfort"? When did I give up, so to say? Likely around the time I woke up fat. I'm pretty sure these went hand in hand. I don't think sane or thin people just decide that flannel, fleece or whatever the hell Lululemon is made of, is meant for everyday wear. Actually, not true, it is meant for everyday wear, TO BED or the gym. Baha..like that happens...
It's actually taken on a life of it's own. I've actually developed a systematic approach to the validity of only wearing sweatpants. I grade them on their acceptability in public, the embarrassment of my children, the likely hood of seeing someone I know (not for my own embarrassment, but theirs) and most importantly, their comfort.
Public: Okay, so we all know the sweatpants with the elastics on the ankles. The ones reserved for 8 year old boys, couples over 60 wearing matching sweatsuits, and for scrubbing the shit out of your toilets. I have a few pairs of these. They were black, but now have orange bleach stains. The elastic rides up on my calves, they actually leave red marks in my skin. I hate these pants, but you know what? They are comfortable and they are a guarantee that I can finish my housework without interruptions. No man with an ounce of pride would try to get up on their wife when she's wearing these pants. These are only for in my own home. I change out of these gems into more attractive sweats to go outside.
My Children: They are still young enough, that they're not overtly affected by my choice of attire. But, I do make the conscience decision not to wear any sweats with letters on the ass. I am a Princess, but my ass doesn't need to advertise that I am the Princess of a country the size of Russia. I don't have ones with little paw prints on them either. I am classier than that. HA! But really, I do take into account that I have daughters who are aware of their own fashion choices. Only once has my eldest commented on my sweats. She asked if they were the same ones I wore to bed. I laughed, and told her that would be gross! They were new ones, that look the same. When I like a pair, I go back and get 5.
Other People: I really don't give a rats ass about what other people think of my clothes. Not one bit. But, when I run into people whom I have limited contact with, they seem uncomfortable that I do my banking in sweats. I've actually had people ask if I was sick, or tired. I'm always tired, so that's a pretty redundant question. They seem to think that for some reason I must downtrodden or suffering from some sort of crazy ailment. I've even been snubbed from acquaintances for what I assume would be my attire. (I am sure it's not because I can talk for an hour in the tampon section of the drugstore) They actually can't seem to grasp that I am comfortable doing my errands in grey sweats. I'll tell you something, I am sure as shit getting my stuff done a lot faster than you wearing your "skinny" jeans, heeled boots, 30 lbs of cheap jewelery and your "Snooki" pouf. So for the sake of others, I don't wear the toilet scrubbing pants or the "Diva" assed ones to the bank...anymore.
Comfort: This is an obvious. I don't wear these pants because they are trendy. I wear them because regular clothes don't feel good. Jeans are "hard". The last thing I want is stiff material folding itself, into myself. That's just bad. Belts can kiss my ass. Hard leather digging in. Awesome. I have no need for dress pants. The one pair I have and love, no longer fit. They were my "how fat am I now?" pants. I bought them at one of my biggest times, and they are great.Really nice and comfortable. They are the pants I just can't throw out. When I lose weight, I still wear them, because they are cute when they're baggy. But last week, I put them on and realised for the first time since I bought them, they are too small.
I am not enough of a lady to pull off a skirt or dress. No one wants to see me climbing out of my car flashing my granny panties. Or loading groceries with my cheeks all exposed. Leggings can look good on ladies my size, sure. But I end up looking like a frigging lollipop. My top is far larger than my bottom, so effectively I look like at any moment I could fall over. Like those weeble toys, though the likeliness of me "bouncing" back up, are zero to none. I have "classy" sweats, ie. my Lululemons. I feel like I can wear these anywhere and pull them off. I may even trick a few people into thinking I came from the gym. But little do they know I am sweaty from finishing my cheeseburger before I run into the school, so I won't have to share. And I only wear running shoes, because fancy shoes look stupid with sweats. I have "warm" sweats, which are the staple for our awesome winters. They are thicker, so that's helpful in minimizing my weighty appearance. But they're warm so who gives a shit.
I do own some nice clothes. I do have some trendy stuff in the back of my closet. I just usually reserve these for special occasions or special people. I am willing to sacrifice my comfort for a few hours for friends or family. This is mostly because I have the type of friends and family who will call me out on this. My sister will ask what the hell I am wearing. My mom will ask if I am actually going out in what I have on. It's all in fun...I think.
All kidding aside, it's like this because I'm fat. It's hard to want to shop when "average" size, isn't so average. It's hard when 99% of the stores in the mall don't carry clothes that fit, and if they do, they are cut for someone without boobs, hips, or an ass. The "plus size" stores are shit. I don't want to look like a 50 year old book keeper (no offence to any of you out there, but I'm not 50 and I hate math) There's a huge disparity in styles available. Mainstream fashion isn't accessible. Size 14 is often the largest available, which is really like a size 10. Some stores have made an effort, don't get me wrong. But an article of clothing that's available in a size 0 isn't necessarily going to look as cute, or fit as well when expanded to a size 18. Sorry, it doesn't really work. Fashion retailers have under educated their staff in sizing and fit. I once (when I was down to a 10) asked an associate for a larger size in a shirt. She looked me up and down and said "We don't carry plus size." All I wanted was a size large. Scrawny cow.
So in an effort to avoid the insurmountable anguish involved in shopping, I've decided for the time being to take a stand against clothes. I will pledge allegiance to the cotton makers of the world and support them whole heartedly by living exclusively in sweats. I will be the leader of the sweat pant mafia. We are strong willed women who can get shit done. And don't mess with us, or our cheeseburgers, because we rule to world. And by world I mean the parent council and drive thrus.
