SelfAbsorbed.ME : ‘It’s Your Life, We Just Write it Funnier’

The arrival of spring, in theory if not in actuality, brings a new season of fashion. I must admit, I’ve got warm-weather apparel on the brain, but with that excitement always comes a skepticism towards some of the season’s trends. I’ll follow-up Bartok’s hilarious Ralph Lauren lament with a recent pants puzzle of my own:

When I studied abroad in Spain during my junior year of college, I brought back a pair of what I referred to as “penguin pants,” never bothering to learn their real name. I only just recently discovered their true title: the harem pants.

In Spain two years ago, these pants were transitioning from a Bohemian trend among university students to a more mainstream fashion. They were weird. And the scale of that weirdness depended on the level of sag. Just how low could that crotch hem go? I saw some pants that had a more subtle sag, making them appear to be like 17th century male dandy pants–a title that, if nothing else, does have a nice ring to it.

The 17th century man look does have its merits with fitted coats, shiny buttons, and perhaps an elaborate collar. Still, these pants tend to accent and exaggerate the thigh area and diminish everything else. While they could show off a pair of slender ankles, do I really want my ankles to look slender because my thighs look prominent? My gut reaction to the dandy pants is a resounding, “No!”

But discussion doesn’t stop there, for the crotch continues to drop. These pants could reduce any long-legged gazelle to a penguin. Which again begs a fundamental question of flattery: Do I erase the shape of my legs and risk making myself look SQUAT?! Again, part of me cries, “Never!” But then there’s that other part that says, “Ooh. Those look so comfortable.” And yet another voice follows, saying, “But they’re so unique. Be open-minded.”

So, despite my doubts, I bought a pair of low-slung penguin pants because I felt as though they were emblematic of my time in Spain and, dear God, they were comfortable.

I returned stateside, settled back into my family home, and started a boring summer job. Nearly every evening, I came home from work and put on the penguin pants. I was falling in love, or at least developing a dysfunctional dependence, on my pants. Before I knew it, they were not only the most comfortable but also the coolest apparel I owned.

One evening, I went to the grocery store, a chore I liked doing for the rest of my family. I enjoyed the overwhelming air conditioning and the power to pick what type of cereal I’d be eating the next morning. Filled with a sense of calm and comfort, I smiled at a woman and the young girl trailing behind her as we passed in the bread aisle.

“Maaammy!” I heard the girl say. She was probably about four or five. “Why’s that girl wearing a diaper?! She’s so old.”

Oh, no. This was a crushing blow. The comment was filled with simple, objective innocence–filled with truth. I returned from the grocery store silent and sullen, took the pants off, folded them, and placed them in a bottom drawer.

The pants lay there, forgotten. When I moved out of my house last summer, I accidentally brought them to New York, thinking they were yoga pants. They occupied a space of equal unimportance in my New York closet.

Until now.

I’ve seen harem pants in all variations of droopy start appearing on fashion blogs. Earlier this week, NYmag.com’s The Cut did indeed cut to the chase with the question posed in its headline: “Are You Excited About Harem Pants? Or Just Plain Terrified?”

I was neither, though I felt a little caught off guard by their appearance, like running into someone I knew from high school on the subway. However, logistically, the trend makes sense: with the arrival of London-based Top Shop and the growing popularity of Spanish department stores Mango and Zara, it’s no wonder that the European droopy drapery pants are finally infiltrating the U.S. fashion scene.

Now I find myself wondering, Do I turn my sag on? I still feel an aversion to the apparel, but curiosity overwhelms me. I have to revisit the potty-untrained pants just one more time. Naturally, a fashion shoot ensues:

And a “Do It Yourself” harem pants session with my favorite oversized flannel follows:

Though creating my own hipster-friendly harem flannels is my most impressive accomplishment this week, I still hear the voice of the little girl from the supermarket echoing in my head. Now that I’m reminded of how comfortable they are, I may start lounging around the apartment in my harem pants–but I doubt I’ll ever take to the street in them. The waddle-when-you-walk sag just doesn’t jive with the New York strut I’ve been working on for months.

Still, I’m nervous. I’ve been known to fall under the spell of nonsensical fashion trends. Already owning these pants is like an accident waiting to happen–and no one ever wants to end up with an accident in their pants.

Photo Credits: paper-doll.com, thedandy.org, girldir.com, imnotafashionistabutiplayoneontv.blogspot.com