(Forgive my attempt at a punny-headline…)
We all make resolutions and state our goals at the start of the year (even when we try to avoid the whole practice). There’s something so tempting about that start to the new year.
Two months ago, I decided that 2017 was going to be the year that I stopped wearing pants.
For most people, that might sound crazy. I mean, a killer pair of jeans can make you feel powerful. Beautiful. They can go from the office to a night out to lounging around.
For the past seven years, I’ve measured progress with pairs of jeans. Have I lost weight? Is this pain treatment working? Am I getting better? They’ve been a yardstick that had a good chunk of self worth at the end.
When a pair got a little tight, I got mad at myself for not working out enough or eating right. When a pair got loose, I would celebrate until the next round of steroids or batch of life circumstances came up that made them not as loose came around. When my nerves would interpret the fabric from my favorite denim as burning sandpaper, I would mourn their loss from my wardrobe. Every time I had a good day, I would jump at the opportunity to wear a pair of jeans – to feel normal.
I’ve been phasing jeans out of my wardrobe for a while – looking for any excuse or
fashionable socially acceptable way to skip pants. It was half self-defense, half desire for an experiment.(I proudly tell people about my disdain for regular pants.) A challenge, if you will.
Could I get away without wearing real pants (jeans, dress pants, yoga pants) for an entire year? Would anyone notice my plan?
I mean, I am a fashion school dropout (fo realz – I started college as a fashion design major…), so it isn’t all that far-fetched that I wouldn’t be the most stylish person. I live in the midwest, the least fashionable part of the country (at least according to folks on the coasts).
I’ve made it 2 months into 2017 and not one person has noticed my little experiment (who I haven’t told). I work in a creative office where hoodies, jeans and casual clothes are de rigueur so I can get away with a little more than my friends who do crazy things like work for banks, law firms and the like. The fashionable ladies wear skinny jeans and leggings with flowing blouses. The environment ensures that my tunics and leggings aren’t really all that out of place. (Ok, fine, the bright, bold leggings stand out a little bit…)
I’ve designed a few pairs of my own leggings and developed a (potentially un-)healthy obsession with Lularoe. I might own a half dozen pairs in solid black. I have soft ones. Athletic ones. Thick ones. Thin ones. Shiny ones. Matte ones. I even have some holiday themed ones. I have leggings, all the best leggings.
I even regained a love of dresses. Who knew how easy it is to get dressed in the morning when you don’t have to do much matching. I mean, one garment and you’re done. Maybe add in a pair of tights. No making sure two things match or that their style works together. (Bonus points for them being client-meeting appropriate).
There are 301 days left in this experiment and I have lots of room for improvement in the make the leggings look stylish department, but I’m off to a solid start. (However, if you find any awesome leggings, please feel free to tell me where you have found them