my past in pants

the other day, while rooting through my closet to see which of my “work clothes” still fit after nine years on hangers (answer: almost none), i found two pairs of pants i love.

they were waaay at the back of the closet, at the end of the rod, and i’d actually forgotten they were still there. a couple of years ago, when i mistakenly gave too much attention - and assigned too much importance - to who i was on the outside, i’d done a big clothes purge, getting rid of anything i thought didn’t reflect the person i wanted to be. or, more accurately, the person i thought i was supposed to be.

and i guess i thought these two pairs of pants had been given away along with everything else.

but there they were. alive!

i loved them then, and love them now, because they’re unique. they’re a matching set – the exact same style, in two different colours (beige and olive). they’re men’s pants, and i remember buying them at a burlington coat factory, oh, easily 13 or 14 years ago. (i take good care of my clothes, so they’re still in excellent shape all this time later.)

they’re a sturdy cotton. not quite denim, but thick and tough, as though made to survive the rough and tumble antics of overgrown little boys. they have a narrow waist, so they fit me perfectly around the middle, and then enormous, billowy legs that are rendered sail-like in the wind. they’re not cargo pants, and they’re not painter pants, but they do have huge pockets at the back and one on the right-side leg right around the knee.

i bought them back when i was going through a mild skater phase, fascinated by girls (and guys) who could pull off a tight, girlie shirt and massive, boy pants. this look was usually completed by classic vans or original airwalk (before they became crappy payless-affiliated models) shoes. as an aside, i actually had a wicked cool pair of royal- and navy-blue airwalks, too, but wore them to the point where they could be worn no more.

i remember feeling cool when i wore those pants – especially the olive ones, which looked like they were part of some kind of fun, funky, jacked-up military uniform. they were wonderfully loose and super-comfortable and functional: all the pockets were roomy, and the side pocket on the leg was a great place for keys, or a small wallet, or whatever. they were nice and long, as well, which meant i could even roll up the cuff around the ankle.

when i found the pants again last week, i felt like i’d stumbled upon another version of myself. an older version. a familiar version. a version that might have been upgraded since, but one that still works, still has value, and was never entirely phased out.

and i put them on.