Clown Pants

Photo by mooncostumes.com
Photo by mooncostumes.com

While we were up in Seattle, we did some shopping.  Okay, *I* did some shopping.  I needed some work pants and shoes.  I enjoy shoes, but none of the pairs I had felt particularly comfortable.  Comfortable and cute became the watchwords.  I found some I liked at Nordstrom Rack.  Then I got some pants – on sale – at Macy’s.

Thrilled to find pants the right length the right size and on sale, I wore one pair at the PAC.  They passed the comfortable yet professional test.  The second pair I put on today.

Over breakfast, I showed Ruby my shoes and pants.

“What do you think?” I asked, twirling in front of her.

“I like the shoes,” she said, her eyes trained on my silhouette.

“What about the pants?” I asked.

Without taking another breath, she said, “They look like clown pants.”

What?! They’re a neutral color.  They sport clean lines.  Nothing objectionable or edgy here.  Not even any suspenders involved.  I found myself taken aback. Way back.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, choking back a laugh.

“They go all the way up to your belly button,” she informed me.  Then she took another bite of her toast.

I felt the waistband of the pants.  Well.  Maybe they do.  But they fit me in the waist, which is something low rise pants just don’t.  I won’t be hiking these babies up all day long, every time I stand up.  Besides, high-waisted pants are very retro.  Right?!  Kathryn Hepburn, Lauren Bacall?  Anybody?

I considered changing my pants.  Wait a minute.  Then I remembered who I was talking to.  This is the girl who often wears head-to-toe animal prints.  This is the girl whose theme as a young girl was “no color left behind”, aka the human rainbow.  This is the girl who wore tiaras to school daily for much of kindergarten and first grade.  This is the girl who loved a Christmas dress any time of the year.

I thought about it all. Where do you think Ruby gets her fashion sense from? It ain’t from her dad. Some things just come down through the jeans, er, genes. So, I’m still wearing the pants.  Nobody at work has commented on my trousers’ clownishness. They appear beyond reproach.  I will set a new trend in my unfunny, very normal pants.

I’m going to keep them.  Look out, Ruby.  There’s a new fashionista in town.


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