You’ve been with me through thick and thin. (Literally, my thickest and thinnest.) You stretched to accommodate my ass as it grew larger, my thighs as they became wider, and my stomach as it bloated with stuffing, casseroles, and fruitcake.
I’ve watched you conform to my hips as they shrunk for spring break and broadened again as I drunkenly finished an entire large pizza by myself after a breakup. And you didn’t even judge me—you made room for my bodily mistakes, per usual.
While I’ve tossed out countless pairs of slacks, jeans, and sweatpants, you’ve stood the test of time. You’re a seasoned veteran to my weight fluctuations and you have never torn or worn thin.
Many have argued that you can’t be considered “pants,” but they’re just a bunch of uptight, blue-jean-wearing hussies.
You’re ideal for most situations—I can wear you to yoga, parties, grocery shopping—and I don’t look like a total vagabond.
You look great with any outfit, so you’re my greatest wardrobe companion. And there’s no need to unbutton you, because you don’t have buttons.
Now that summer is over, I have taken you out of my drawer once again, so we can adapt to my expanding waistline together. This year will prove to be a challenging one, as we will be attending multiple work parties, family gatherings, and succumbing to drunchies in the meantime.
Furthermore, thank you for never restricting me, and always encouraging me to have that extra piece of pecan pie. I have no doubt that you will support me through another season of overeating, and I truly salute you for that.
Until rip do us part.
Love,
Seasonal Slobs Everywhere