Mall Trek II: The Search for Pants
Feb. 25th, 2002 11:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinueI have no pants. "Pantsless," I could be called, in a context like "look out, look out for the pantsless avenger!" If someone were to ask me "where are your pants?" my response would have to be that I have none to speak of, not since last month's disaster in which mine own dear pants were damaged.
And ongoing Pants Rescue Project or not, the fact remains that I need a new pair. I've been surviving on skirts and a strange pair of dress slacks that my mother bought me five years ago, (and that I've worn maybe twice until the past two weeks, during which they have been my constant companion).
These same two weeks have been spent in an unremitting quest. A quest for pants, you could say. And my quest has lead me to believe that, much like the American Dream, pants may not be attainable.
It's ludicrous.
I don't ask for much; I really don't. I would like pants that are not jeans or tan khaki, and which ideally have pockets. Beyond that, the horizon is open.
No.
As reasonable as this would seem, there are not pants to fit me. I have what is called an hourglass figure -- big hips, big breasts, little waist. A good figure, I would say. But either pants will not go over my hips, or they are far too big at the waist and fall off if I sit down.
Grrrrrrrrr.
I have gone to every store I can think of. Salvation Army, Urban Outfitters, TJ Maxx, Target, Ross, Wet Seal, Almost 21, Dillards, JC Penny's, and countless others. I have tried on every pair of pants in each of these stores.
Nothing.
The wonderment begins to be how I ever found pants to fit me in the past. I begin to understand why Mae West and Bettie Page dressed the way they did -- there simply were no pants for them.
Val has volunteered to become my personal trainer for a few weeks and actively work to change the shape of my body, in the hope that if I can't find pants to fit I may be able to change to fit pants.
Dee has suggested that for now I buy tights to keep my legs warm, find a good pair of shoes, and stick with the skirts.
I am going to go to a costumer's, in the hopes that perhaps there will be pants from another era that will fit me.
Sigh.
And ongoing Pants Rescue Project or not, the fact remains that I need a new pair. I've been surviving on skirts and a strange pair of dress slacks that my mother bought me five years ago, (and that I've worn maybe twice until the past two weeks, during which they have been my constant companion).
These same two weeks have been spent in an unremitting quest. A quest for pants, you could say. And my quest has lead me to believe that, much like the American Dream, pants may not be attainable.
It's ludicrous.
I don't ask for much; I really don't. I would like pants that are not jeans or tan khaki, and which ideally have pockets. Beyond that, the horizon is open.
No.
As reasonable as this would seem, there are not pants to fit me. I have what is called an hourglass figure -- big hips, big breasts, little waist. A good figure, I would say. But either pants will not go over my hips, or they are far too big at the waist and fall off if I sit down.
Grrrrrrrrr.
I have gone to every store I can think of. Salvation Army, Urban Outfitters, TJ Maxx, Target, Ross, Wet Seal, Almost 21, Dillards, JC Penny's, and countless others. I have tried on every pair of pants in each of these stores.
Nothing.
The wonderment begins to be how I ever found pants to fit me in the past. I begin to understand why Mae West and Bettie Page dressed the way they did -- there simply were no pants for them.
Val has volunteered to become my personal trainer for a few weeks and actively work to change the shape of my body, in the hope that if I can't find pants to fit I may be able to change to fit pants.
Dee has suggested that for now I buy tights to keep my legs warm, find a good pair of shoes, and stick with the skirts.
I am going to go to a costumer's, in the hopes that perhaps there will be pants from another era that will fit me.
Sigh.
