This is the story of linen pants. The story of their life as I know it. You see, they have come into my life recently, so I am at a loss as to the road they traveled before reaching me. I found these pants at the thrift store, the feel was great, the brand I trust, the pink ticket was 50% off that day. In so many ways they were right. In so many ways they were wrong.
First there was the elastic waist. Maybe when I'm 84, though I hope not, but at 34 there is no way for me to pull this off. I also can't stand the confinement of the elastic. I've tried a variety of ways, sometimes in skirts it works, never with pants. In part due to the second reason they are so wrong. These particular pants were also blessed by their designer with a high waist band. Now, I don't know
a lot anything about fashion, but if I had one opinion it would be that the most brilliant fashion revolution in my lifetime would have to be when they lowered the waist on womens pants. I know it doesn't work for every body type, it does for mine. I'm not built like a boy, I have hips, I also have a small waist. Pants just fit better around my hips than my waist. When I tried on these linen, elastic waisted pants they wound up sitting somewhere around the middle of my rib cage. I don't know why, it's just where they had to be to stay put. Have you ever looked at your behind in the mirror when your pants are pulled up around your ribs? Yeah, not cute. You see, an elastic waisted skirt you can pull down a bit, let it sit on your hips. I won't even get in to what your fanny looks like when you pull down high waisted elastic pants to sit on the top of your hips. Let's just say the um, crotch, winds up hanging somewhere between mid-thigh and your knees giving the illusion of one very droopy derriere. Like I said, I'm not 84 but 34, I'm still going for cute as best I can. And as the years slip away quickly, I'm not taking any chances. Oh! And the third thing, tapered leg. I can't even speak about tapered legs.The three things that could be wrong for me, this pair had them all.
So, they weren't right for me as they were, this story of linen as pants needed to end. But the fabric is still so beautiful, strong and gorgeous, still holding so much life. A new story is about to be spun. What if this linen could spread it's wings, take on new life, many lives even? Would I be willing to let this story evolve, become something new? Why not, it's just a story after all. I snipped and measured, I gusseted and interfaced, I sewed steadily and hemmed patiently. And in the end, a new story appeared, three times. What was once entirely wrong, is now so very right.
Tonight I went to see a play at the summer youth theater of the town I grew up in. There was a line in one of the songs, "our lives become the stories that we weave." I've been thinking a lot about stories lately, so these words were sweet and reminded me of so much, including this project I had worked on all day. Who knows what lives these stories will weave from here. Two will be leaving, I've got a show on Saturday. One will be staying with me. A part of this story will always stay with me, entwined with thousands of other stories big and small, beautiful and painful, silly and wise, together weaving this life that I live.