The Pant Boycott

That’s right. I’ve had it up to here with pants. And when I say ‘here’, I mean somewhere in between my hip bone and the fattest part of my butt. Really. I’ve had it and I’m angry. What is the deal with low-rise pants? I went pants shopping the other day and I went wandering through a whole mall, skipping only the most matronly looking of shops (you know the kind I mean, the kind that sell high-rise pants but only with those little pleats by the front pockets … shudder). I went through the whole mall popping my head in each shop asking, “Do you sell mid-rise jeans?” Only to be gawked and laughed at. Weren’t mid-rise jeans a myth, like unicorns and gremlins? Ha! I am somewhat less than amused.

This is the way I see it. We all have fat butts. Even skinny girls have fat butts. What can I say? It’s the nature of a butt. So, we can either have all our fat covered by high-rise jeans that make our bums look like giant balloons, or we can have our balloon butts cut off in the middle and look like … dare I say it … balloon animals? No seriously. Think about it. Doesn’t a girl’s butt in low-rise jeans look just like a poodle, but with a few fewer bum…ps. I know. I’m hilarious. Butt seriously, you put on the jeans, cinch the belt (otherwise they fall down even lower) and boom – every woman in the world has a muffin top.

The other thing is that when I was a kid, being able to see down someone’s bum crack was a bad thing. I may be old fashioned, but I’m still under thirty so you can trust me on this. I don’t think that’s changed, but it’s so hard to keep your pants up when they only come up so far. It’s probably because the man who designed them was probably thinking, ‘easy access’ as he was drawing them up. Bad guy!

I wasn’t going to bring this up, but there’s a conspiracy going on, but it’s not the type you’re thinking of. A plot so that every man in the world can check his woman’s panty colour just by standing behind her? Well that’s definitely a possibility, but I was thinking of something else. They’re doing this so that we all have to buy belts. Cause you know what? If it wasn’t for low-rise jeans, I would never need to wear a belt. I’m built like a Christmas tree. They call it a pear shape. My ample hips can hold anything up – hula skirts, screaming children, tool belts stuffed to the max. But I clearly can’t hold up the low-rise jeans.

Heck, I should just throw in the towel and buy a pair of suspenders.