I’ve attended my share of Fashion Week. It seems easy enough—you get dressed, you take your seat, you ogle thin people, you go back home. But really, there’s a lot going on. It’s great that designers can lend out some of their pieces to wear. They are real works of art, with double (sometimes triple) back zippers and amazing sequined details. They hold up and push in all the things that need to be, but a girl can’t really wear that everyday.
On a recent trip to the department store for some exercise gear, I came across a great pair of pants. They were about $7 but they sure didn’t look like it. Wearable both to the office and for cocktails, this pair had shallow side pockets and a high gartered waist that hid that extra tire area just right but not too much to leave waistband marks.
Little did I know that these pants would be my downfall.
I was out on a date and we had the obligatory walk and chat before going into the movie theater, when I felt a draft. I checked the back of my pants and felt what seemed like unraveled thread. I sat in my seat, looked down, AND THERE IT WAS. The thorn in my side. The future source of abject humiliation. The faux pas of all faux pas in a darkened theater where a wholesome movie (Wreck-It Ralph) was about to be played. My pants were torn from the butt to the thigh—and I was wearing neon green underwear printed with a Sesame Street character.
I don’t remember doing lunges at any point during the date, so how this happened is a mystery to me. I pondered whether to tell my date or to just not explain why I’m walking like a penguin on the way back to the car. I recalled that this isn’t the first time I’ve been in an awkward situation because of my clothes.
Well this was mostly my fault for not looking in the mirror.
I told my date. He didn’t laugh. For that he will get a pat, no, a kiss—on the shoulder. He offered me his jacket, but I still walked like a penguin back to the car lest anyone catch a glimpse of green. At least now I had someone also walking at a ridiculously slow pace with me.
Three unsolicited takeaways from this debacle:
1. Stick to unprinted, neutral-colored knickers. Black, white and beige.
2. Mirrors are your friend. Look in them.
3. Last but not least, lunge-test your pants before you go on that date.
- Watch: Tight Skinny Jeans Might Cause Nerve Damage (abcnews.go.com)
- The cheek of it! Commuters strip down to their underwear for ‘No Pants Day’ (mirror.co.uk)
- I Have Somehow Failed In My Quest To Purchase Sweatpants In A Timely Fashion (lorcadamon.com)