I’m glad to answer that burning question with a, F*** NO! I haven’t sold my soul to the Australian foot-fiends yet. Yet, it is true, I’m sad to say, that I gave in to the leggings-as-pants (one word) trend. But it was only once! And lucky for you, I survived the embarrassment specifically so that I could share my extraordinary story with the world.
It was a dark and stormy morning. Since I don’t presently have a pair of rain boots in my closet, nor do I own an acceptable rain jacket, I was exceptionally pissed off and reluctant to get dressed. I had slept in a giant navy blue sweatshirt, which I stole from my best guy friend in high school (sorry Adam!), per usual, and due to the fact that my room stays at approximately 45º in the wintertime, I didn’t exactly feel like taking it off to change. So, I took the plunge. No, literally, I plunged my upper body to the floor and reached for the nearest thing, a pair of leggings, so that I wouldn’t have to remove my bottom half from under the covers.
Once I made it out of bed and put on my favorite New Balance tennis shoes, which I’m proud (?) to say I’ve had since eighth grade and still look spectacular, I found myself staring in the mirror with a rather important decision to make. Luckily, I was feeling skinny that day and was also already 10 minutes late to the history class that I’ve already missed three times (if anyone has the notes…), so I grabbed my backpack and ran.
The only seat left was in the very back of the classroom, much too far from the chalkboard for me to be able to read what my professor was writing. So, instead of attempting to listen to him talk, I spent the rest of the class pondering the peculiar fact that I was wearing leggings-as-pants to class after months upon months of silently judging (or openly judging, if I know you well enough) every other girl who does the exact same thing. I wondered if my legs looked good, if people thought I was a sorority girl, if the other kids in my class had judged me when I walked in.
Despite the fact that it came almost to my knees, I spent the rest of the day constantly tugging at my sweatshirt to make sure it was covering my disproportionately large “badonkadonk,” if you will. However, I did walk a bit taller that day, much like I do when I wear a really bizarre outfit to class and feel the need to justify it with a confident stride. I also walked quicker than normal, but I usually do when wearing tennis shoes or workout clothes. Overall, I guess it wasn’t that bad wearing leggings-as-pants to class. I blended in with everybody else, which doesn’t happen too often for me, especially since I switched my nose stud to a nose ring (frat guys reeeeally don’t get that one). And, I did feel like my legs looked skinny, so that’s obviously a plus. I think it helped me carry myself better, but only because I felt extremely uncomfortable and so felt obligated to try and look like I was completely at home in my leggings-as-pants.
Don’t worry, friends, I’m definitely not making a habit of it. Unless, of course, I’m wearing these incredible Alexander Wang ribbed, velvet, flared leggings, in which case, I’d rock leggings-as-pants all day every day (all I do is wear leggings-as-pants!). But, until I can afford to pay $895 (yes, the only leggings I’d wear as pants cost almost $900, and even the model has a dress on over them) for a pair of AW’s, I think I’ll stick to jeans… or shorts… or leggings with super short skirts… or any of the other countless options that aren’t leggings-as-pants.