Thursday, 9 April 2015

My Love Affair with Sweatpants


Let us review for a second here, that I am in fact from Essex. Now I am not ashamed of this; I have a relationship with Essex such as people have with their families. I can insult them as much as I like, but nobody else can.
Thus, my entire life I pretty much refused to wear any sort of sweatpants, jogging bottoms, tracksuits bottoms, or anything like that. In my town, there was around a 90% chance that the girls would have at some point owned a Juicy Couture tracksuit (or cheap equivalent); it would have been hot or baby pink and the word 'Juicy' would have been emblazoned across the backside in diamonte. This was something which I swore until the day I died, I would never be seen in.

Then second year of university hit. I need not go back to that horrendousness, but let's just say that my pyjamas became my best friend (and my bed) (and crying to Say Something continuosly). For third term, in which I had no lectures, only exams, I lived in my pyjama bottoms. They were fleecy. They were warm. They were so unflattering. The worker in the Londis down the road had seen me in them more times than my past boyfriends had.
I had fully reached the point in my life where lounge wear had become my actual day and night wear. I had, and still love and wish they were here with me in Madison, lounge shorts.
I have enough lounge hoodies that I could build my own lounge tent.

It should also be noted that I essentially live in leggings with one pair of jeggings thrown in. Aside from skirts and dresses, I am always in leggings. They are essentially one step up from sweatpants/pyjamas.
Then I saw them. I felt them. The Aerie sweatpants. They were grey, with lighter grey interwoven detailing down the sides. They had cuffed bottoms, and a band round the top. I needed them. It was love at first sight. Yet they were forty odd dollars and Sephora had already taken silly amounts of money from me.
So I began to stalk them. I watched for an Aerie sale. I prayed for one. (Okay maybe not but you get the gist here). Then Black Friday came, and they were reduced! Praise the sweatpant gods!
We have never been parted since. I have travelled in those bad boys, slept in there, worn them for probably about three days straight, if not more. And thus, my love affair with sweatpants, one step up from pyjamas, had begun.

I then discovered the wonder of guys sweatpants. Which are, yes it is possible, even more comfortable than girls'. Why this is a fact of science and nature that guys clothes are more comfortable, I do not know. Thus the affair extended to a full blown relationship. As soon as I got back from my classes, I had long ditched my pyjama bottoms for sweatpants and now if I was at home, I was gonna be in those babies.
Then the Vegas sweatpants happened. There they were in Wallgreens. Capri pants they said. :as Vegas they said in ombre pink diamonte. It was like the Aerie sweatpants all over again.
And you know what? Buying sweatpants (especially really tacky ones), whilst on holiday is actually one of the best things you could buy. Because who packs to be comfortable on a holiday?

Thus here I am, now admitting that sweatpants are a staple in my wardrobe. I have worn them to the dining halls, and that's as far as they will go, until life completely wears me down again. But I don't care if Eva Mendes says that her relationship with Ryan Gosling has lasted because he has never seen her in them, sweatpants themselves are a relationship that will be forever after.