Ass Pants
Bought myself some pants last night. I love these pants. They are black, lightweight, festooned with thousands of zippers and neat little pockets. Really cute pants. Joyful pants. Pants that should look righteous with my black, silver-beaded tank, or even my new green t-shirt featuring a bunny picking his nose and captioned “I HATE EVERYTHING..” The pants should look wild yet chic with my new obnoxiously huge Italian horn necklace and delicious three-inch-high cork-heeled, bronze-leathered-instep wedges. Those pants should look smashing with my “bug-eye” rose-tinted shades and the awesome silvery, slouchy bag I got for half price.Notice I used the word “should” throughout.
The pants are not my friend, ladies and gentlemen. The pants hate me and my generous hips. They mock the fact I bore four children, that I am over the age of twenty. They chuckle and twitter when I, refusing to accept the image I see before me in the mirror, suck in my tummy in the hopes that the conspicuous Tony Sopranoesque meatball sub-size roll will simply go away if I stand at the right angle. Oh, and how they laugh when I turn to check the crackage (ladies, you know what I’m talking about), and am horrified that not only is there an all too visible crack, one that would show even if I wore a floor-length sari, but that the whole world, should I wear these pants, would know I am indeed a natural blonde.
The “waistband” sets exactly one inch above my pubic area. One inch.
The zipper is so short, I don’t know why the designer even bothered.
That’ll teach me to buy pants. Silly Ms. Lori, buying pants as if it were still possible in this day and age to find them with a fucking normal waist to crotch ratio.
Still. I really, really love those pants.
Perhaps I will frame them and display the hateful, beautiful bastards on my bedroom wall. I can gaze longingly at them, me in my burka, and dream…
16 Comments:
Well, obviously the makers of these pants are the spawn of Satan.
If I were you? Burn them.
And cackle.
Loudly.
As they burst into flames and disintegrate.
But then, that's just me.
And what the fuck IS it with low waistbands (not that I HAVE a waist, but still...)? Why is EVERYTHING now designed to hang off hips? I mean, sure, hipsters are great - if you have a flat stomach and no extra flesh around your chest. But for those of us who have Buddha bellies (my affectionate term for the huge roll of fat that covers my poor stomach) - not so great.
*sigh*
Anyway, burn the pants.
BURN THEM!
MWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
*insert bolt of lightening here*
MWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
…And so on and so forth...
I heard a phrase on television the other night (when the people on screen were discussing the virtues of the new "skinny jeans"--fuck off!) and it has been haunting me ever since. That phrase is "muffin top" (aka the lovely, squishy role that flops over the waistband of jeans). As in, if you wear these new stretch skinny jeans, ladies, you will have no muffin top.
My horror is second only to when I learned the phrase "camel toe" (and one of my friends found a camel toe product in the back of a magazine--this product promised that if you bought and used it you would never, ever have a camel toe again. It was some sort of cup).
God help us from ourselves!
I have a lot of trouble buying pants these days too.
I do think that showing an ass crack is better than camel toe, which as Myf points out, is a HORRIFYING condition. So I think you're good to go. Wear the pants.
Having read this column for some time now...and having it on good authority (ms. Lori's own progency) that she resembles goddess-like actresses...I suspect that the horror here is over-stated (or shoudl be considered so) and that Ms. Lori will look fine (in any sense of that word) in said pants.
I will add my two cents about "fashion" design though. Okay...men's pants that are meant to hang down and show your underwear? Do we really want to emulate a loook that truck drivers have been wearing for generations?
I want my elephant bells back. I want jeans that fit ME instead of trying to fit ME into a photo of some model I never looked like who looks good to women, despite the fact women repulse him because he's gay.
I want a polo shirt that is worth $5.99 to cost $5.99 not $45.99 because some foppish European idiot put his name over the pocket...
I want to see the pants (lol)
D
Alice, I can't burn them. I love them too much. And so I weep...
Myfanwy, MUFFIN TOP?! Fuckers. Freaking fucking fuckers! Media sucks, and so do the nineteen-year-olds who keep the low-pants people in business.
As for camel toe, even Madonna sports one occasionally -- I saw a recent picture of her with a HUGE camel toe, and I mean this thing had an actual hoof. Guess she should've worn the "cup."
Stephanie, as bad as those pants look on me, at least the camel doesn't rear his ugly toe. Can toes rear? Anyway, crack is better than toe, as is roll, I guess. Camel toe = nasty, while Tony Soprano meatball sub-roll = eh, could use to lose ten pounds, but at least my labia ain't misbehaving.
David, I know that women aren't the only victims here, but you've got to admit that guys have it so much easier. Seriously, imagine trying to be comfortable at a club or party while in a pair of stilettos, a push-up bra, a thong, and pants squeezing your Tony Soprano Meatball sub-roll. Go ahead, I dare you.
Hurts to even imagine, doesn't it?
Now get on your knees and worship your lady. ;-)
Oh, and though you're very kind, believe me, the pants look quite bad. Very, very bad.
How dare anyone associate something as delectable as muffin tops with a roll of yes-I-had-kids or yes-I-am-over-thirty-and-like-to-eat stomach.
Okay, here's my fashion advice. A spagetti strapped body suit -- you know, those things ballet dancers wear -- leotards, one piece, except you really need crotch snaps because if you are a total lush you just can't get naked everytime you need to pee.
And then wear your tank or tee over the body suit.
And what the hell am I talking about? I have no idea. I'm giddy today.
But as usual, you crack me up. Lori, let's get together and just publish our blogs so we don't have to ever finish our novels. Isn't that what you are secretly hoping? I know I am!
I was standing in the back of a makeshift auditorium last week. There were rows and rows of folding chairs in front of me, and let me tell you, a sea of cracks and thongs and even granny-panties. These low/no waist pants were designed by one lowly perv, I believe.
There must not be any sitting, bending, crouching, or otherwise functioning in those things. Panty shots, Ms. Lori; that's all they are good for.
YOU BOUGHT KATE MOSS'S PANTS! BURN THEM IMMEDIATELY!
Any grown woman who weighs less than my 11-year-old is the devil. Alice is right. These pants are the spawn of Satan.
Ah, the ominous Natal Cleft, that pushes the cheeks together from leatherbound tightage and elongates the crack up to the small of a woman's back.
But I agree with David, in that my image of Ms. Lori, has up until this point been the persona of a supermodel with a rocker like character, enjoyable intelligence and wit, and flawless skin.
I can't see her any other way somehow. It just doesn't fit! Be that as it may, I don't care if those ass pants fit you or not, Lori. I love you dearly.
Never before have I been so glad to have discovered the joys of baggy pants. No camel toe, no crack (if you get a pair that fit well enough), and no incidents of underwear suddenly deciding to go exploring.
I've noticed the recent trend in women's pants getting lower and lower -- back when I was about 12 years old and still stupid enough to actually watch MTV, I heard said pants reffered to as "Standing-Room Only Jeans". Men, take note: you're not the only ones to do stupid things to get laid.
Now I know what you were talking about over on Alice's turf today.
I read her in in early morning so we can go back and forth (8 hours time difference - my early morning is her late afternoon).
I'm really late getting here. Busy day.
I though you were calling her ass pants.
Waist to crotch ratio!!!! HAHAHAHA My Ribs!!!
I know what you mean - I am on Atkins (for everrrrrrrr) and recently was able to slither in to these jeans I bought over a year ago. When I wear them all I hear is my Mother telling me "you're gonna get a yeast infection!".
Little tight - but I am freaking featuring them!!
Ok, TMI??? xxxx
Hahaha! So Funny! But they do sound like really kewl pants. Am actually having the same problem...getting pants past my hips these days...was just telling my friend yesterday that the reason why I was wearing a tiny, sexy little yellow dress was because I couldn't get any of my shorts past my hips...the dress was the only comfy thing that fit. Blast those hips! XXOO-E
I love hips!!
Pictures! I demand pictures!
Your pants and my new jeans are related- wicked step pants sisters. I feel for ya sister. Buy shoes. No matter what, go nekked and buy shoes. Amen.
OMG i just had to take back the cutest pair of cargo capri pants, cutely embellished, that should have looked awesome, for the same reason. No, i don't try anything on. when i go and but things, i have an infant and a toddler so it doesn't happen but, HELLO!?I am under no illusion that i am a flat stomached teenager. I know this because a.) i just turned 34. B.) I recently pumped out my second child. and, 3.) I bought the pants in the plus size department of Wal-Mart. How dare anyone make a plus size cargo capri in a low rise! if you have to shop in "plus" you don't have the right to try to wear low-rise.
fuckers.
oh that crack, is called "coin slot"
i love it. muffin-top, camel-toe, and coin-slot. WTF?
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