I’m gratified by the over 400 views of my last blog, “The End Justifies the Meanness”. I was concerned it might be a bit intense or depressing, but I guess you like that kind of stuff.
A few weeks ago I sent you ‘The Future Ain’t What it Used to Be”, which got less than 200 views. You are a fickle bunch, aren’t you!? I need 7 more readers to reach 200 views, so if you’re seven people (or one person who wants to read it 7 times), please help keep my 200+ streak alive. i forget what it’s about, but Im sure it’s brilliant, insightful, and pithy. (yes, I lisp)
Which brings me to today’s subject: pants .
I’ve been wearing pants for 70 years now, and buying them for probably 55. I still don’t really know what I’m doing. My mother would say ‘get dressed’, and I would think ‘don’t you mean get pantsed?’. That’s why my early years were a drag.
There are many ways one can purchase ‘slacks’ these days (they’re not just for slackers anymore!). One can go to the many malls that line our great nation. Or one can sit, in the comfort of one’s own home, apartment, or cardboard box, and order them online. One can even go to a vintage clothing store, or a Salvation Army/Goodwill type place, and buy somebody else’s pants!
two pairs of a pair of pants
I know I have a stylish and well-to-do subscriber base for G&J, so I won’t discuss the latter option (though it may come in handy for those hard-to-reach pants on the top shelf). My favorite pair of pants were ones I found in a Greenwich Village used clothing shop in 1978. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship with my pet moth, Clarence.
But first, let’s discuss the name: A pair of pants.
Well, first of all, in England they’re called trousers. In fact, pants has a completely different meaning over there, one not to be discussed in mixed company. And they don’t call them ‘a pair of trousers’, just ‘trousers’. So there’s that.
Of course, we don’t live in England (or even the U.K.) that is, unless you do, in which case, my apologies. We live in the USA, where it’s not enough to have ‘pants’, one must have a ‘pair of pants’. We do everything bigger in America, whether it’s good or not.
Richard Harris, whilst singing of parks and elusive cake recipes and other things not usually associated with romance, referred to ‘a striped pair of pants’. Actually, he said stripe-ed, which is kind of Englishy sounding. ‘Stripe-ed trousers’ might’ve been more apropos in this case, considering Harris’ ethnicity, not to mention where he came from. But the writer of said song, a Mr. Webb of Texas, called them ‘a pair of pants’. I don’t know if he wrote it as ‘stripe-ed’ or just ‘striped’, but if you’re going to write ‘stripe-ed’, shouldn’t you be consistent with your pretentiousness and call them ‘trousers’? But I don’t want to press the point, especially since your interest is bound to decrease..
So what you & I have is/are essentially a pair of legs, which a single pair of said pants will also have, unless we’re taking about Peg-Leg Bates, frequent guest on the Ed Sullivan Show, and a dancer with a wooden appendage. But even he, a likely candidate for a pant, actually wore pants. A pair of them, in fact. And after performing his dance, he would walk over to Ed to be congratulated on his fine performance. But he’d just had quite a workout, so sometimes, as he spoke to Ed off the cuff, he would pant. More than once. A pair, minimally.
I’m sure there are endocrinologists out there who can clarify the origin of the term ‘a pair of pants’, but I suspect their explanation wouldn’t be sufficiently silly enough for this post. But I’m sure the phrase has an interesting etimomi we could look into some time in the future. Around 2031, maybe.
So, whether buying a pair of pants, just pants, trousers, breeches, the no-longer acceptable knickers, or shorts (another confusing nomenclature…are we talking about underwear, summerwear, or movies?), it is always important to know your size. However, some salespeople tell me size doesn’t matter. Maybe they were just trying to be nice.
But sizes are confusing. There’s the waist, the length, the inseam, and soooo much more. Some of these measurements fluctuate over time, like for instance, when we are telling someone of the opposite sex what size we wear. Sometimes a 34 waist on one pair (another misnomer…you may have a pair of legs, but certainly not a pair of waists) is more like a 32 on another. I’ve ordered a few pairs that just didn’t fit the way they described on the website, and they wouldn’t take them back. $20, waisted.
Sometimes, when your pants are too big, you can take them in. They’re usually pretty gullible and will fall for the weakest of ruses. Alice Kramden was often taking Ralph’s pants out, which is a cheap date indeed.
So, as you can see, the pants problem is multi-faceted and ubiquitous, often simultaneously. Back in the day (I think it was a Thursday), a pair of pants could be had for a few pennies on Delancy Street (slightly more inside a shop, as the ones on the street had lots of tire marks). Mere pocket change, yet today you couldn’t even get one pocket at that price. Maybe one of those little ‘pockettes’ (as I like to call them, meant to connote smallness, not femaleness) usually found just above the right side pocket, to keep change in. Although, without pants, those little pockets would be of limited use.
Ideally, one with sufficient income could hire someone to, each day, press their pants before one puts them on. A young, attractive foreign woman perhaps, who could take care of your pants much like they were her own children. An Au Pair of Pants, if you will. Or even if you won’t. And, as a bonus, after the work day is done, you could show your camaraderie with the underclass by symbolically getting into her pants, though it might be a tight fit. Still, what a magnanimous gesture!
One last pantial issue: zipper or buttons on a fly? I think buttons are great, though you must find very, very small ones for a fly, not to mention the trouble of sewing them on, often in flight. I could say more about this controversial topic (I could write an entire fly paper), but alas, it’s about time to zip it up. Or, as the triumphant Rocky theme proclaimed, ‘Gotta fly now!”, perhaps the first and only cinematic paean to a device intended to allow for easy access to, well, you know.
And so you see, the subject of pants (or the subjects of a pair of pants) is an inexhaustible one, at least for me and other mental defectives. But I’ve said enough. Lots of times, in fact…it’s a pretty common word. It’s hard for me to sing your praises, oh glorious trousers, without people thinking I’m putting you on. I can’t help myself…it must be in my chromosomes, or perhaps my….never mind.
So far I’ve had no luck pitching Gems & Jams as a TV series. Or a movie. Or even a blog, come to think of it. But, for the first time, Band Boy - the series has been accepted in a festival, the Austin Lift-off Festival. Episode one will be on their website all April, and you can see it there (along with other, less accomplished entries) on their website. I can’t seem to find the url, but that works out great as you had no intention to check it out anyway! But if you find it, you can vote for BAND BOY - the series. Second prize is an all-expenses paid trip to Texas; first prize is no trip to Texas.
Filmfreeway.com for that Austin film festival?
Congrats on the Band Boy win!