Listen, I love comfort as much as the next person. I could learn to see the value of AC Slater’s corsetted acid wash jeans if I thought the higher, thicker waistband combined with the additional buckles would somehow make everything so much more comfortable. Surely a thicker waistband like that will alleviate any and all problems with the “muffin top” that plagues so many women who just want jeans that fit in a semi-comfortable way but doesn’t give them a totally saggy-ass look like they just pooped in their pants. I know, I get it: when you tried them on in the store, they fit. When you took them out of the dryer they freaking shrank a whole size and before you knew it you were lying on your bed exhausted from the effort of trying to fasten a button that worked yesterday.
Then there were commercials for pajama jeans which sounds like… Let me put it to you this way: much like a deep fried oreo or bacon popcorn, it sounds like both the most wonderful thing you have ever heard and the most terrifying. In fact, the bacon flavored popcorn and deep friend oreos probably led to your need for the pajama jeans in the first place. This is a safe place, no judgement here. I get it and came very close to getting a pair of my own so I could sit at my pier 1 dining table and talk on the phone comfortably. Or go to work. Whatever.
But there are socially acceptable ways to go out in what is essentially your pajamas. The pajama jeans people were using the wrong words in marketing their pants: they should’ve called them yoga pants. If you’re logical, you might be saying, “you mean sweat pants?” And I would yell at you, “NOT sweat pants, YOGA pants.”
Because that’s right, there’s apparently a difference between the two. Yes, you in theory would “sweat” in yoga pants but let me assure you, many of these women are not sweating in these pants. The extent of their exercise is walking from the car to the Lululemon store and back again. The store gives a great illusion of athletic activity, though, the pants are designed for running because they have vents behind the knees… It sounds better than, “these pants are soooo comfy when I’m sitting on the plane!” or “I had too many cupcakes last night, this waistband expands to accommodate me!” Yeah.
So I have adopted a strict policy, namely that unless I just finished running, I am not allowed to wear my running pants in public. PERIOD. No excuses. (who’s with me?) Once I get away from things with a waistband I will start traveling down a slippery slope into a rabbit hole that I may or may not ever emerge from. Don’t get me wrong, I still look like a total schlub when I go out and am in no way fashionable or stylish but one day people will wake up and realize that they cost $100 but they’re still yoga pants, and yoga pants are in fact sweat pants and oh my god we’ve all been walking around in sweat pants.
I’ll still take this over the velour sweatsuit Juicy Couture was peddling, though, which my sister LOVED and we spent many an hour hunting them down in Loehmann’s. I refused and it’s one of the few life choices I’ve made that I look back on without regret.