Fat Pants and a Uniform

by admin

Fat Pants and a Uniform

If I had a choice, I would wear a uniform every day. I told my daughter that and she replied, “Well, no one is stopping you.” Yes, I know that I can wear a uniform if I wanted to, smart aleck, but I want more than that. I would like it to be socially acceptable.

There are many times in my life when I am not at the prime weight for my height. Luckily, I am currently in a down swing with my weight, but during those fluctuations up, I generally sport what I call “my uniform.” Okay—my fat pants. I have two pairs of Daisy Fuentes cargo pants that I purchased when I was pregnant with Gracie. They are not maternity pants (though I love maternity undies), but, like the loaves and fish, they kept on giving. They never ceased to fit. As I lost the baby weight, the cargos still held their shape and fit fine up to about fifteen pounds over my ideal weight. So when desperate times call for desperate measures (and I consider my occasional status as a certified heifer desperate), I will wear them every day, alternating taupe and green. I refuse to buy new clothes at the larger size because once I lose some weight, I don’t ever want to actually admit that I am going to get back up there. I do, but if I don’t own a slew of larger sizes then I never have to resign myself to existing at that weight for a long period of time. Does that make sense? It doesn’t to my husband but I understand my logic so I carry on.

I want more than the big-girl uniform, though. I want to have a daily outfit that I wear and not have to worry that Perryann won’t want to be seen with me because “you’re wearing that AGAIN, mother?” I want it to be completely acceptable that on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I am in my Lands End blue polo shirt with khaki pants and on Tuesday/Thursday, I am in the white Izod polo with a cute blue tennis shirt. Saturday and Sunday are free days but preferably a cute track suit is optimal. I am fine with my individual style and creativity playing out in original hairdos and darling argyle socks. Is that wrong?

I am not asking for societal conformity and I think it would be a little too George Orwell if Obama instituted mandatory American unis, but I wouldn’t mind if someone passed a statute that allowed for adult uniforms and had an amendment stating that women over forty shall not be criticized, mocked, nor have candid photos of them uploaded to a website ridiculing their non-diversified style.

Anyone else see the ease and joy that would come from assigned fashion?