We must discuss. Now.
This is how I remember it. It’s Sunday and my boyfriend and I are 20 minutes away from eating the best hollandaise eggs known to man when I’m struck with an ultimatum. “Lose the soft pants, or go to brunch without me,” he said.
And just like that, I knew my dependence on tracksuit pants had become a big problem.
We used to joke about my ability to collect masses of them especially the kind that are pretending to be something else (shouts out to Pajama jeans), but there is no laughter here.
I groan. This relationship (like most, I assume) is no stranger to a fashion faux pas. Both of us are known to revel in the glee of a bedazzler and have doubled denimed so often we could be mistaken for 90’s Irish pop sensation, B*Witched.
And yet, there I was just moments later: throwing away my “Old Faithful” Cotton On Body clearance rack classics in favour of some pleather number that I know leaves deep red gashes of regret on my hips (I’m lookin’ at you, Zara winter collection). I still believe there is no greater pain than having to digest a parma while wearing pleather.
I knew this was coming. Last May, Eva Mendes exclaimed that soft pants are the number one cause of divorce, and simultaneously drove a knife through my heart.
Soft pants, trackies, sweatpants, jogging bottoms (or daks, if you will) are undeniably awesome.
Watch this quick video on how to easily dress-up tracksuit pants. (Post continues after video.)
They’re uplifting clouds for your hip flexors. Snuggles for your ankles. And yet they’re repeatedly slammed by the likes of EMends and the comfort hating glamorati. Even Business Insider has weighed in on the hating with some subtle ‘not in the office’ commentary. The etiquette of when, where and how to wear my favourite apparel is now more controversial than ever.
To be clear, we’re not talking about the fancy silk couture kind (Google: Beyonce). The world needs clarity on the appropriateness of the Best n’ Less variety, the trackies with drawstrings and the occasional bold print. Like Miley, I’m confused.