Bad Pants

It’s all Bill Day’s fault. Bill was one of my dad’s good friends and the man could do no wrong in my adolescent eyes.  Bill was the leader of, what I considered, the Bellingham “Rat Pack”. His entourage followed his lead, whether on the golf course or social gathering.  Along with Bill’s dynamic personality he also was quite the dresser, per 1970’s standards.  My goal, as a nine year old, was to dress like Bill. I figured, even at that age, dressing like Whatcom County’s Arnold Palmer would give me a leg up. Oh dear, was I wrong.

My mom purchased clothes for me that were best suited for the 19^th hole at the Lake Padden Golf Course.  Maroon checked, sun drenched yellow, tree frog green, you name it I had every imaginable pair of dapper middle aged man pants tailored to fit a pre-pubescent boy. Where the hell did she find them?  Of course, matching t-shirt was a requirement. I safely made it through elementary school dressed like my school principal, or perhaps Shecky Greene.  Looking at grade school class pics I really didn’t stick out…at least that’s what I’m telling myself.  Kids back then didn’t make fun of you unless you puked in the classroom or peed down your leg (please note, neither I did). Besides, I grew up in a pretty economically diverse neighborhood so you saw it all.

Sooooooo, let’s skip ahead to September, the start of middle school where I missed the first week because my parents made the “bright” decision to take me to Kauai for a couple weeks. I arrive at the start of school week two with checkered red and black pants and, what else, a hibiscus/bird-of-paradise Aloha button down.  Oh, and I had a nice white belt to go with the ensemble (I’m not making this up).  Looking around the 6^th through 8^th kids, surprisingly no one else had similar attire.  Go figure.  Now you’d think during the next three years I’d force my mom to buy me clothing a bit more “with it”. Star jeans, no.  Brittania jeans, nope.  I’ll stick with slacks, sansabelt preferably.  I did coerce my parents into purchasing some Adidas white with red stripes tennis shoes.  Least my feet were in style.  How I made it through middle school alive is beyond me.  Thankfully there was safe refuge in the library and Mr. O’Dell’s classroom with ping pong table.  I kicked some major ass in ping pong and will save that for another story.

Enter high school, still no jeans, but moved to cords as my predominate choice of attire. I don’t know what year I made the call to get some jeans but did end up with a pair only to be ridiculed because they had frigging zippers on the pockets, I believe every pocket.  Gawd, I couldn’t even get the right pair of jeans!  I believe I dressed with “the times” in high school and have dance photos to prove it.  Plus, by then Bellingham had a Place Two (Nordstrom for cities that have a pulp mill as the center of attraction) where I bought my clothes.

Off to college, Washington State University, where gray sweat pants were the fashion norm.  Midway through my first semester the guys in my fraternity recommended I get some Levi jeans.  EVERYBODY wears them. I had no jeans (except for the one with 13 zippers in my drawer at home) so, during Thanksgiving break, I bought some Levi’s.  Back to the fraternity proudly wearing my jeans only to be told I purchased the wrong Levis.  I bought 505’s not 501’s. 505’s have a zipper, 501’s are button fly.  Really? I screwed up buying Levis?  I did eventually buy the right kind of Levi jeans.  The following year though I made the foray into purchasing Calvin Kleins.  My girlfriend at the time said my butt would look great in Calvin Klein jeans so I had to get me a pair.  I have no idea where I bought them but did return from winter break wearing Calvin Kleins.  I seriously had to question how I looked in them.  At that time my weight was about a buck fifty (150 lbs.).  To put it bluntly what ass I had was molded into the shape of a text book.  And this is attractive?  My CK’s didn’t do it for me.  To this day I’m one and done with anything Calvin Klein.

Off to my 20’s and 30’s where, I think, my pant selections worked.  The only significant complaint came from my current wife who had an issue with me wearing khaki pants with running t-shirts.  I’m a comfort over style kinda guy and it worked for me. 

Now I’m in my 40’s + 10+ and currently dealing with the following pant problems:

·         Pleated pants are OUT!  I made the move to non-pleated a couple years ago, thanks to Banana Republic, my “go to” store for clothing.  The problem is, I’ve had trouble getting rid of my pleated pants. There’s been a lot of history made wearing them.  I’ve managed to cull them down to maybe one or two pairs but I still have a couple…in case they come back in style.  Sorry.

·         I read something recently where if you’re over a male over the age of 50 you shouldn’t wear jeans. What the ____!  Now what do I do with my stylish jeans?

·         I fortunately work with someone who knows more about fashion than Yves St. Laurent (I’ve found throwing something French into my writings makes me sound really smart).  Whenever I purchase a new pair of pants and get a “two thumbs up” from Michael I know I made a good decision. 

Finally, one other pant issue I’ve had for eons.  Pant sizes typically come in even #s, 30, 32, 34, etc., both in waist and length.  Those #s don’t work for me.  My perfect pant dimensions = 31-33.  Odd #s, sorta fits don’t cha think?