When I was little, I wanted MC Hammer pants. SO badly.
My brother had them, and he looked so cool. (And we’ve already established how amazingly cool big brothers are.) So I wanted them, too.
That was when I was really little, and if I remember correctly, I did end up getting some MC Hammer pants. I think they were made by my maternal grandmother, who was a clothing designer and maker her whole life, and I think they were made out of fabric that made a very distinct “whooshy” noise between my chubby legs when I walked. I was like, four, but I’m pretty sure I’m not making that up.
SIDENOTE: If you have thunder thighs,* stay away from “glossy” fabrics and corduroy. Corduroy is the devil.
During the time that I was in grades 5-7 or so, those sporty Adidas snap pants became all the rage. You know the ones. They’re black with the white strips along the outer seam, and they have snaps all up the side so that you can rip them off like Gob in Arrested Development. Now, why any child would have to spontaneously rip off their pants is a complete mystery to me (and in fact, it made the threat of being pantsed so much more terrifying), but all of a sudden everyone had these pants. So naturally, I wanted them too.
SIDE NOTE: We wore these pants with our Spice Girl shoes to look extra cool. You know the ones.
SIDENOTE CONT’D: And suddenly, writing this post, looking at these pictures, I want to die a little bit.
Anyway, where were we? Right, So naturally, I wanted them.
But as I’ve mentioned before, I was a super cool kid and I was also a fat kid who didn’t fit into most of the trendy clothes I pined after. So I turned to my grandma. And we couldn’t quite find the right fabric to make snap pants in black, so they had to be navy blue. And it seemed silly to put actual snaps on them or something, so instead my grandma just sewed a couple white stripes along the sides, but only two, not three like the Adidas ones had.
And of course, everyone could tell they weren’t Adidas snap pants, so of course I got picked on mercilessly for them and of course I felt like a mondo-loser for not being able to spontaneously rip my pants off should the occasion arise. (Of course it wouldn’t.)
But the point isn’t that I got picked on (because blah, blah, who didn’t, and also I have a lot of work to get done today and I don’t feel like delving into the emotional trauma and my childhood at school), the point is that I was trying to force trends.
They don’t work on everybody (see: every body). Like, the whole over-sized sweater thing. Love it, but who the hell can actually rock that look without looking 50 pounds heavier? (If you can, good for you – own it and know that I both admire and hate you.) Skinny jeans? Tricky. And all of those loose, flowy summer tops that you can’t really wear bras with?
Don’t even get me started.
*Term of endearment. Thunder thighs are the bomb. Embrace ’em. UPDATED TO ADD: Thighs ’til I die!!!!
P.S. I own two pairs of these Isabel Marant rip-offs in different colours, and I don’t care what you say, I LOVE THEM. Also, they’re the most comfortable EVER, they make me taller without anyone knowing, and they give me that toned leg/bum feel without having to wear actual heels. I LOVE THEM. YOU CAN’T TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME.**
**There’s a distinct possibility I may try to deny owning these in a decade. I’m totally okay with that.