I Have Somehow Failed In My Quest To Purchase Sweatpants In A Timely Fashion

I had it all planned out, and it was an awesome plan. I was going to spend the entire winter break off from school doing absolutely jack shit. And I was going to wear nothing but over-sized T-shirts and sweatpants for the entire nine days. Here’s where my plan fell apart: first, all of my T-shirts are from marathons I ran several years ago, so when you go from being a bad-ass marathon runner to a writer who literally sits on her ass for as many as eleven hours a day, those oversized T-shirts start to resemble the tank top that Hooters waitresses wear. Second, I forgot to buy sweatpants.

I know, you would think that someone like me would already own a full wardrobe of sweat-clothes in various coordinating colors, but alas, there’s a reason that I have none. Because my husband is a jerk.

He strictly forbids anything even resembling sweatpants to cross the threshold of our house, and I mean even jersey-weight fabrics are not allowed. Even on the kids. Even when the school requires them to wear this sweatsuit thing with the school logo on the chest for PE class. No. No sweatpants. Their little stick legs can turn blue in the cold of the winter gym classes, or as he so sagely instructed, they would keep warm if they exercised harder.

I haven’t completely figured out his aversion to sweatpants, except that even I’m willing to admit they are the romance equivalent of the chastity belt. Once you throw on sweatpants, it’s a slippery slope to the day you’re no longer dying your roots or bathing. But that is what makes them awesome. You get the feeling of wearing your pajamas all day, with the smug satisfaction of knowing a) you did actually get dressed and b) you are still classy-looking enough to go to Walmart if you run out of milk.

But sexy faux pas be darned, I was going to enjoy my vacation swaddled in fleecy goodness, by golly! Except I didn’t remember my plan until day six, at which time I looked around and realized that I don’t own any. I raced to Walmart (we were also out of milk) and grabbed a pair, mildly surprised to see that they now sell them in the automotive section, and got home with them, ready to put them on before my husband knew what hit him.

And they sucked. Besides leaving lint all over the eyelet edging around my underwear, someone apparently thought there was an elastic shortage because these resemble very chunky yoga pants with flowy bellbottom ankles, letting cold air ride up my calves. When I sat down, they rode up slightly like a normal pair of pants would, exposing my legs to the elements and exposing the world to the fact that I also didn’t plan to shave during this vacation, all due to the lack of circulation-cutting ankle elastics.

Sadly, my husband saw me in the pants and nearly choked on the mouthful of food he had just bitten. He leaned in, peered at the fabric, and rubbed it between two fingers as though appraising the quality of fine silk. He looked back at me and narrowed his eyes.

“So. That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” he demanded. I nodded defiantly, prepared to defend my choice of lounge wear to the death.

He put down the plate of food he was holding, glared at me for only a moment, then proceeded to remove his jeans, reveling in walking around the house in just his nasty-looking underwear in the most unhygienic rendition of “two can play that game” ever. So we basically both looked like trailer trash, but I was warm. Win.

12 thoughts on “I Have Somehow Failed In My Quest To Purchase Sweatpants In A Timely Fashion

  1. Is that a brand name ‘Sweat Pants’ ? I’d love to have been at the meeting where they came up with name. “So ideas for the name of the new product. Jimmy?” “I’m thinking Jogger Jeans”. Yeah okay Jimbo not bad, a little too normal for I was thinking. Come on everyone a name that’s really going to sell this product. Kate you’ve been wearing them for a month now what name would you give them?” “‘Sweat Pants'”. “What?” “‘Sweat Pants'” “Okay, any reason?” “You want to smell them?” “No, right I guess we’re going with with ‘Sweat Pants, though in the UK they’ll be called ‘Cotton Joggers’ as in the UK pants are are underwear and the British don’t discuss perspiration”.

  2. LMAO… I wear sweatpants daily. Even when I take a shower. Which I may, or may NOT, do everyday. Okay, kill the suspense, I’ll just admit it: I do NOT shower everyday. And I freaking love my sweats. The best kind have pockets in them for my iPod & my ID so I can go about all man-style without a purse. My hubz knows he best not even PRETEND to give me stink eye over this because I write am the resident blog writer. There’s something to be said for publicly ratting out stink eyes.

    Also? Wind suits are dumb & stupid and dumb. Mostly because of the “swish-swish” noise they make when you walk from one room to another.

    Oh, and one more thing. Yoga pants are the freaking bomb. Just sayin’.

  3. Oh god this brought back so many painful memories. Shell suits here in the UK many years ago when son Brian and I had to suffer the indignity of going out to public places with a a wife and mother and two daughters, sisters dressed in appalling matching shell suits. We used to walk at least 30 paces away from them to try and deny any connection. I feel a blog with photos coming on but I also fear for my life reigniting that one thanks for the year end laugh my sweet.

    BTW has the contest achieved a winner? Xxxxxxx

    • I am always the winner.

      I’m sorry for my lack of worldliness, but are you talking about those wretched jacket-and-pants combinations that we call wind suits? If so, I had a wardrobe of those when I taught public school because they were REQUIRED! I was the cheerleading coach and had to wear one every Friday!

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