Something strange has been brewing these last few weeks in the “pants” industry, and no, I’m not talking about the “wedgie jean,” although that too will merit some face-time in this ol’ blog if a certain famous family continues to wear them religiously. (*Side note – can you imagine heading into your office on casual Fridays sporting a pair of those? Every old-man pervy at the place would be howling outside your office door – I shudder at the thought.)
No, I am talking about the return of the see-through yoga pant. I remember at the time the scandal broke a couple of years ago feeling like, yeah, no shit all of those pants are see-through. I thought that was intentional to remind me just how sad and pathetic my mid-30s body and yoga moves were in comparison to the early- and mid-20s goddesses I was forced to endure class with. I’d be standing up trying futilely to get my hipbone to pop back into its socket, and meanwhile they’d have their fannies right up in my face while they mastered a graceful crow pose with their perfectly shaped derrieres and colorful array of thongs. I thought that was the point. Look at my perfect ass and how I creatively express myself through my choice of skimpy undergarments.
And, I was actually quite fine with that, because I thought I had one up on them, having gained the good sense in my old age to purchase all of my workout clothes at a *gasp* discount store where none of my yoga pants set me back more than $15 or so. Sure, they were your basic black, stretchy variety, but no one could see my granny panties through them. That was a joke, people! Don’t think my actual underwear preference is going to be on display in here.
In all seriousness, however, I was willing to make that compromise in the interest of my wallet. Yes, I’d be keeping my private bits to myself, but these are the sacrifices we make once “being cute” is no longer our top priority, you know?
But no, as I learned when the whole brouhaha broke lose, it turns out that none of this was intentional. People were all up in arms about their exposed tushies and quite offended by it. I’m not sure how they could have been unaware, because I had literally been viewing half of them in all their glory for years, but apparently none of the rest of us had ever taken the time to get to the bottom of it by politely inquiring if they always wore their “booze-day Tuesday” undies on Saturday or if they were just confused about the day of the week. We probably could’ve headed off this catastrophe YEARS ago. Sigh.
After that, there was a marked decline in bareassed-ness in my classes, however, so apparently the word was out at last. And this seemed to continue pretty consistently up until a couple of weeks ago when I began to be confronted, once again, with lots of cheek in my classes. LOTS.
Ladies, I’m truthfully confused about the return of the see-through yoga pant. Did you just not do laundry this winter? Or did you think you were expanding my cultural horizons by introducing me to your hot-pink tiger-print thong?