First the confession: I have a lot of exercise clothes.
Partly I work out a lot, or tell myself I do, and also the line between work out wear, and street clothes has become ever more blurry.
The wicking zip front shirt in cranberry—thank you, Cullen!!—works as well for the park or the grocery store as for yoga. And oh the joy of stretch fabrics. One of my personal goals in life is to feel as comfy as I do in pajamas, without actually WEARING pajamas. Exercise pants accomplish that goal in an ever more stylish way.
Still, I was really surprised the other day when I pulled a pair of Lululemon black pants out of my drawer. The fabric felt great as I put them on but, When did I get these? I hardly ever buy from Lululemon. Partly, I can’t stop gagging at the prices. Also the skinny young things who work there are snotty to less-young me. “They’re nicer if you walk in wearing Lulu,” says Jessamyn.
But why should I have to coax people to be pleasant to me at stores where tights are over $100?
So, the few Lulu pieces I have are “emergency” purchases. “Emergency” being defined as once when I was on a trip and forgot exercise wear completely. Another time I came across a pretty teal top at less than half price.
Is 60% off an emergency? It can be.
But these were black pants. No emergency. They were comfy, and a really interesting geometry, if a different fit than I usually pick. I checked the size, but with Lulu the size goes away when you remove the tag.
But I didn’t want to be late for my exercise class with Jessamyn so stopped pondering and hustled off.
Several hours later, over appetizers with Shannon, Jessamyn looked at me in surprise.
“Hey, are you wearing my pants?”