The Pants Post

I'm not sure what's a bigger deal - the bikini I bought recently or the fact that I now own pants. That's right, as most of you know I recently bought pants. Most people have never seen me in pants (other than my workout pants) so this is a pretty huge deal for me. I had to buy them for work to cover my tattoos (stupid tattoos). And I realized that I still hate pants, but not for the same reasons I used to...

I have hated pants for decades. I think I covered some of this before, but will give a brief history of "Pants & Sheryl: The Anti-Love Story"...

As a very little girl my parents will tell you - I always had an opinion about what I wanted to wear. And I mostly wore skirts and dresses. I was particularly into fancy girly clothing - ruffles, frilly things, lace, pink - you name it. I loved picking out and wearing dresses. And the girlier, the better.

But around age 9 (1980), I guess I let 'popular clothes' overrule my inner girly girl because designer jeans were really in - Sergio Valente, Jordache - and I got it into my head that I needed to wear them.

But puberty started very early for me. At age 8, I was already starting to fill out in places most other girls my age were not. I didn't realize it then, but I was starting to develop what are now my killer curves. At the time, all I knew was that I was bigger than all the other girls in my class. Not only was I painfully aware of that fact, but it didn't help that the other kids pointed it out too.

My thighs were especially full and I had a pretty big ass at a young age, so by 4th grade, I had already outgrown childrens' sizes. And shopping for clothes meant painfully embarrassing moments in a large dressing room (the kind without individual stalls) where my Mom brought me to buy these overpriced designer jeans.

I had to try on what I remember being dozens of pairs of jeans just to find one that fit. It was humiliating and I dreaded it. And when I finally found a pair that fit, they weren't even comfortable! They were so stiff and cut into me - cutting into my stomach and yes, into my huge thighs. It hurt to walk and to sit. (In retrospect, I guess they didn't fit. I probably needed a size up. But I always preferred my clothing tight. Here I am in 6th grade, wearing jeans. You can see what I'm talking about. Do I look comfortable? No, not at all-)

That sadistic ritual went on for several years, until age 14 when I landed  a job in a hip clothing store at the mall. I started buying all my own clothes - and gravitated towards skirts. I loved that skirts allowed me to get back to being girly, and expressing myself (this is when I started cultivating a look and standing out with my clothing and hair) while hiding my shameful thighs.

That was 1985 - and despite the fact that my weight has been everywhere from 140 to 208 since then, I have still avoided wearing pants. But every so often, at various weights, I would decide to try them on. Unsurprisingly, it always ended in disaster. Even though I was in a single stall fitting room, the experience was much the same - I looked terrible, I felt worse, all I could focus on were my thighs - How wearing pants in public would allow everyone to see them rub together with every step I took, how the pants would clearly show off how big my thighs really are, and how, as a result, people would laugh at me or make fun of me. And after saying pretty terrible things to myself, I didn't buy them.

But because of some meetings I had to attend at work recently, and because I needed to cover my tattoos at these meetings (In case you're wondering: in the winter I wear opaque tights or knee socks over nude pantyhose to cover my leg tattoos, but I thought both would look ridiculous in the summer for these meetings), I went to Banana Republic on a mission for pants.

I didn't have any expectations. I grabbed a few pairs of pants in various sizes and went into the fitting room.

And like every other pants trying on experience I've ever endured, there's always that moment I dread - that moment when I'm vulnerable in my panties with that awful lighting and full length mirror, bent over, and I put my foot into the right leg and then pull it up my leg, just waiting for the pant leg to get stuck on my thigh. But that didn't happen. They not only went up my thigh, but they fit! They zipped and everything! I couldn't believe it, but here I was in a size 6P(!) in pants and *not* totally hating how I looked. In fact, I have never looked this good in pants-

I bought the two pairs shown above. The gray pair (which I showed in this blog) stretched out a full size after just a few hours and I will likely never wear them again. The black ones are a nicer material (more like a skirt), are fully lined (like a skirt) and they are acceptable for other work-related pant occasions.

I wore the pants to my meetings at work and co-workers who had never seen me in pants (including my boss) were shocked - not only to see me in pants but because I look a lot different since most of them have seen me last. And I got more compliments than I could have imagined.

But compliments don't change my opinions or how I feel about things. As I mentioned in the beginning of this post, I am still not a fan of pants, but for a different reason... When I was heavier, I hated them because they showed off the size of my thighs and how much they rubbed together. Now that I'm not worried about that anymore, I realize I dislike them because I just don't feel 'right' in them. I just don't feel like me. They make me feel very manly and un-sexy (if you follow me on twitter, you have likely seen my many tweets along those lines on the days I wore the pants).

Don't get me wrong - I'm thrilled to be the size I am now and it's nice to have the added option of pants, but I'm so much happier and look so much better in skirts and dresses. I love the way they look on me, the way they cling to my curves and show off my body, the way they move when I walk - they make me feel like a woman: a confident, sexy, feminine woman. I'm addicted to that feeling, so I won't be trading in my skirts and dresses for pants any time soon - or ever, for that matter.