Thursday, December 8, 2011

Dear Sweatpants

The Boathouse Pant
Dear Sweatpants,

How do I love thee, let me count the ways..... 

First, your elastic waistband is the hug I long for. It seems to say "I love you" and "it's OK you ate french fries for lunch...and breakfast" all at the same time. It also seems to say, "Go ahead and have that root beer float". You seem to really get me.

Secondly, and when I thought you couldn't be any more awesome. BAM, with the pockets. Pockets in just got real in here. Those pockets, or "candy vessels" as I like to call them, almost make me forgive that period of time that you wrote "juicy" across my butt. Almost....

Thirdly, you come in many different colors. Sure a slimming black seems like an obvious choice but a little too elegant for my taste. The bright colors are a West Coast fave, but I'll be saving that canary yellow for my bridesmaid's dresses. I like you in old school gray. First, in gray you go with everything, including my couch. Second, in gray you seem to say "I'm for lounging, but could possibly be for exercising". And finally, in gray you seem to say, "I'm not afraid to make the tough decisions, but I'm still a lady".

And finally, let's not forget the different styles you come in. I love your Boathouse brand. You're a dream in heavyweight cotton/poly blend, drawcord removed, and side seam pockets. Your leg opening which is an open bottom allows me to put you on without having to remove my shoes. I see you speak "lazy", Sweatpants. Well done. 

But I think Elizabeth Barret Browning said it best in Sonnet 43, which was written as an expression of her love for her sweatpants:***

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Ginger Scone

***May or may not be true

No comments:

Post a Comment