Plumber's Pants

The plumbers are finally taking their pants back, and I couldn't be happier.

It seems the fashion world is raising its standards just a tad, moving away from low-rise jeans, the cause of countless sightings of "muffin tops" (that very attractive fat that bulges over the waistline), girl love handles and whale tails (also known as thongs). I know this because I am an avid follower of fashion. (NOT!) Actually, I follow fashion about as often as a politician tells the truth. But every once in a while, I am seized by a desire to look slightly less frumpy. Usually, I just lie down and wait for this unfortunate urge to pass. But occasionally, I go to the mall and buy something stylish.

That's what happened last fall, and dozens of football fans are still in therapy trying to get over the sight. See, I inadvertently tried on a pair of those low risers, the kind that only look good on female stick-insects who survive on lettuce. (You stick-insects know who you are.) As soon as I realized my mistake, I should have put back the low risers and gone in search of some mom jeans, the roomy kind with waistlines that almost brush your collarbone.

But I was experiencing one of my rare passion-for-fashion moments, and when I looked in the dressing room mirror, I didn't see a mom who'd consumed too many muffins and was now oozing enough doughy flesh over the waistband for a good baker's dozen. Instead, I saw a woman who looked pretty darn good standing there in her posh pants. Psychiatrists have a medical term for such delusions, but suffice it to say da Nile ain't just a river in Egypt .

So I bought those jeans and, that night, running late as usual, I quickly slipped them on just before walking the few blocks to my son's high school to watch him play in a football game. As I climbed the stands looking for a seat -- my gut sucked in to prevent stomach spillover -- I was feeling high on life in my hip huggers, a woman who looked hot enough to be oh so cool.

Until I had to sit down. See, I had not yet sat in my trendy trousers. When I did sit, I popped right back up, shocked at how far my waistband slid down my fairly broad backside. I had failed to consider the underwear issue. If you wear low-rise jeans, you need to wear low-rise undies. I don’t want to get too personal here, but I'll tell you that I was sporting my usual, high-waisted bloomers.

Hey, I like to be comfortable.

Anyway, when I sat down in the stands, the poor fans behind me got an eyeful of my less-than-stylish skivvies. At least I wasn’t going commando, so to speak. Then they would have been exposed to some serious butt cleavage and that might have caused mass retinal damage. You’d have probably heard about it on the news.

I spent the rest of the game standing along the sidelines, telling people I was just too excited about the start of football season to stay seated. (Yeah, right). After that, the jeans hung unworn in my closet. As much as I wanted to be fashion forward, I just didn’t want to give up my good ol’ granny panties. Or eating muffins, for that matter.

The other day, though, I went shopping again, hoping to find some Goldilocks jeans – a pair with a waistband that was not too high and not too low, but just right. And, miraculously, I did. In fact, a sales clerk at the store told me low risers are on their way out of style. I say good riddance. Plumber's pants should only be worn by plumbers.

~ Jackie Papandrew ~
© 2008, All Rights Reserved

Jackie Papandrew is an award-winning writer, syndicated humor columnist, coffee addict and mom to a motley crew of children and pets who provide a steady stream of column ideas and dirt. She's also wife to a very patient man who had no idea, years ago when he still had time to escape, what he was getting himself into. Visit her website at:  JackiePapandrew.com

[ by Jackie Papandrew Copyright © 2008, (me@jackiepapandrew.com) -- submitted by: Jackie Papandrew ]