I bought two pairs of sweatpants a couple weeks ago.
To kick off the new year.
Two, sturdy, solid sweatpants.
Not yoga. Not leggings. Not pajama. Fucking. Sweat. Pants.
These are the old school classics, the waste drawstring, the proper baggy legs, the elastic around the ankles, not too tight where it would leave a mark.
Just. Right. Ankle. Elastic.
I bought one in black, one in gray.*
*Or grey? Will someone please tell me the correct spelling?
I got them on amazon where I unabashedly purchase all of my clothes now.*
*minus the occasional knee-jerk purchases via an Instagram algorithm, or the intermittent Etsy pop culture swag I never seem to tire of but I digress.
Before there’s judgement on how terrible I am because I buy all my clothes on amazon –
- At least it’s not lularoe.
- I’m having difficulty being in the outside world at the moment.
- Especially if said outside world requires me to peruse clothing racks with impossible mannequins, and proceed to completely TAKE OFF ALL MY CLOTHES in a fluorescently lit box, all in the name of “not shopping on amazon.”
I just don’t have the bandwidth to be confident right now. You know what I have the bandwidth for?
These luxurious bad boys were an “Amazon’s Choice” with Free Returns, and the size suggested to me was just right for my ego.
I fucking love these sweatpants. I like how they match the sweatshirts* and hoodies** I wear around the house when I work from home.
*bought from Instagram
**bought from Etsy
I have convinced myself that these ensembles are sleek as hell.
That somehow I look healthy and radiant and put together, that these sweatpants complete the effortless look.
Sorry, effortless LEWK.
Did I mention that these sweatpants are super soft while also not being too thick?
Needless to say, these sweatpants make me feel cool.
They make my legs look thin, my buttcheeks look tight, and I feel cute whenever I throw on a matching headband.*
*Black headband for my blank sweatpants, grey headband for my gray sweatpants.**
**Which is it? “gray” or “grey” like seriously??
I strut around my empty house, headband in place, and I’m all like “Don’t I look fucking adorable? Don’t I look refreshed and youthful?”
“Don’t I look… okay?”
Of course, I am not okay. Obviously I am not okay.
I don’t think anyone can be “okay” if they’ve convinced themselves that their new years* sweatpants count as Outfit Of The Year.
*Yeah it’s February and we can’t say new year anymore blah blah blah.
I don’t think anyone is okay if they believe their sweatpants make them a real class act.
I know I am not okay. I know.
This sweatpants blog post is, in fact, sad.
Like, very sad.
And that is probably because I am sad.
As previously stated, I am sometimes too sad to leave my house. Let me rephrase. I am too sad to leave my house to do anything I could easily do inside my house.
Because, like, I have been leaving my house. To see friends. And go on hikes. And see live shows. And go to museums. And go on dates with my husband. All things a functioning non-sad person is easily able to do. So, like, I’m fine, you hear me? Fine. Fine. SO FINE YOU GUYS.
But I am definitely too sad to buy new clothes in person at a store.
So, yeah. My love affair with these – dare I call them chic?* – sweatpants is probably the best indicator that something’s up.
*and what a bargain!
And what’s been up is I have been heartbroken recently. I think we’ve all been heartbroken recently. I mean, my heartbreak is probably different than your heartbreak, but we all know the vibe. We’re all very in it right now.
Sweatpants = Sadness
UNLESS, hear me out.
Sweatpants = HAPPINESS???
Because I am also very happy, in the grand scheme of things.
Like more than happy, thrilled even.
I mean, I’m not insane. There is such a thing as liking a nice pair of sweatpants, right? Who doesn’t love a nice pair of sweatpants? They’re the best! You can’t tell me after all these intricate sweatpant details you don’t now want to go on amazon and buy some yourself.* You can’t tell me you aren’t like “oh my god, tell me more about these sweatpants. They sound great!”
*Yes, you do.**
**You totally do.
I love my sweatpants because they embellish the level of comfort that is my life right now.
I am both infatuated with my comfortable, fun, happy sweatpants and terribly sad about them too.
Isn’t that the most truthful thing you ever heard?
Because you never can be fully one thing, can you?
These Stellar Fucking Sweatpants (TM, patent pending*) completely embodies my current life juxtaposition. I am happy sad. Sad happy.
*if I made the sweatpants, which I did not.
This sweats, and my state of being, are both durably made, not too flashy, don’t shrink, and are utterly basic.* They should last me a good, long time. I hope this contentment can also last me for a good, long time. But I have to accept this sadness probably will too.
*used in its original definition of basic – forming an essential foundation or starting point; fundamental. And not the newer definition – insult, ya basic.”
I mean, look at me! I go out! To museums! And dinner! I just said that! And I’m terrific! How lucky am I that I get to exist in these sweatpants?
How wonderful is it that I can take pleasure in such a thing as sweatpants?
I don’t feel lazy in these sweatpants. I feel loved by these sweatpants.
These sweatpants have even inspired me to post a blog!*
*And I haven’t been able to do that for a long time!
But the fact that these sweatpants mean so much to me, well, it’s sad. It’s sad that sweatpants are the best I can do right now. As white girl guru T-Swift* says : “This is me trying.”
Are sweatpants the opposite of me living?
Or are they the epitome of me living?
Don’t even get me started about my AMAZING bed.
I am happy and sad in these sweatpants. I am sad and happy in my life. I am living my life. I am these sweatpants.
These sweatpants are me.
Plus I got free shipping!
- One L