the abject horror of pants
Well, it's that time again. The time that comes every 8-12 months in a girls' life. You may be speculating here on the event I am referring to, (cutting your toenails? cleaning the bathroom sink?) but it turns out that I have just worn holes in the crotch of another pair of jeans.
The scientific reason this happens is that many women, women very different than say, the always delightfully skeletal Keira Knightly, have a whole different body part at the top of the thigh. The french refer to this area as the Bulgè. While walking this area creates a frictional process that eventually wears through the toughest of denims. If I were a cricket, I assume it would also attract me a mate.
I find the buying of new pants to be a very unenjoyable process. I tend to change size a great deal throughout the day. My mass in the morning after 8 hours of sweaty, restless dreams about Wentworth Miller is much different than when I return from a whole day of rampaging through villages eating the townspeople. Or sometimes downtown Tokyo. Either way, there is a noticable variation. In fact if you place me against a dark background you will see my outline blur as I rapidly flick between various dress sizes.
This is hard because pants, unlike shirts, are supported on the human body not by sturdy shoulders but through the assumption that one has a narrow part of a torso that blends gradually towards the larger hip area. If you have a body that does that, bully for you. However if your pants fit on you roughly the way an egg cup gently cradles an oviod, then you are bound to have problems.
I suppose possible solutions are buying stretchy waistband pants, or wearing suspenders, but I think the actuality of this is fairly terrifying to contemplate. Therefore this is going to leave me in the mall at some point soon, surrounded by jeans, contemplating some sort of teflon thigh insert technology.
The scientific reason this happens is that many women, women very different than say, the always delightfully skeletal Keira Knightly, have a whole different body part at the top of the thigh. The french refer to this area as the Bulgè. While walking this area creates a frictional process that eventually wears through the toughest of denims. If I were a cricket, I assume it would also attract me a mate.
I find the buying of new pants to be a very unenjoyable process. I tend to change size a great deal throughout the day. My mass in the morning after 8 hours of sweaty, restless dreams about Wentworth Miller is much different than when I return from a whole day of rampaging through villages eating the townspeople. Or sometimes downtown Tokyo. Either way, there is a noticable variation. In fact if you place me against a dark background you will see my outline blur as I rapidly flick between various dress sizes.
This is hard because pants, unlike shirts, are supported on the human body not by sturdy shoulders but through the assumption that one has a narrow part of a torso that blends gradually towards the larger hip area. If you have a body that does that, bully for you. However if your pants fit on you roughly the way an egg cup gently cradles an oviod, then you are bound to have problems.
I suppose possible solutions are buying stretchy waistband pants, or wearing suspenders, but I think the actuality of this is fairly terrifying to contemplate. Therefore this is going to leave me in the mall at some point soon, surrounded by jeans, contemplating some sort of teflon thigh insert technology.
posted by Idoru at 11:18 PM
4 Comments:
OOORRRR..
you could only ever wear mini-skirts and high heels.
then you wont have this problem.
xox
Jacob B
you know...you should REALLY clip your toenails and clean the bathroom sink more than every 8 months
yeesh!
Just joking..sorry to hear about your jeans LBS
suspenders are sexy, especially rainbow ones. Also I'm fairly sure that your salvation is coming back in style, the overalls!! True story, I saw a hip vancouverite (what an awkward word) wearing one the other day. So the trend will no doubt gently waft across the mountains to Calgary soon.
Yeah, I saddled that nightmare this morning. I had to slip out of one store (hopefully)unnoticed because I'm not shaped like an Olsen Twin and "skinny" pants really are meant for skinny people. I did leave the shopping complex victorious, but seriously...never again...not for another several years. You hear me body? Don't go changin'!
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