Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Sweatpant justice

While shopping at Target on Friday I spotted something I never imagined could excite me so: a big rack of Hanes Her Way sweats in all different colors. The big picture-sign above the shelves of fleece informed me that these cozy pieces were just $6 each, and the woman in the picture looked so comfy and happy.

So I bought a couple of sets. Now these are not clothes you'd actually wear to the gym. No, women must be wearing tighter-fighting yoga or running pants with some kind of coordinating tank and zip-front jacket when sporting gym clothes in public. It's the code. These sweats are more the old-fashioned type: a boxy, unfitted sweatshirt with loose-fitting straight-leg sweat pants in mix-and-match colors like black, gray, and purple. These are the sweats I remember from childhood, minus the elastic cuff at the bottom of the pants-leg. Apparently no one wants to go that retro.

I was so excited about buying these (Only $6 per piece! Comfy and warm for these chilly autumn nights!) that I immediately washed them when I got home, eager to wear them later that night. (This is significant because I had mulitple laundry piles waiting patiently for their turn to be washed, and I shockingly let these sweats cut the line.)

Jump to 7:30 that night. I've tucked the kids into bed, and I am deciding which TV show to watch while waiting for Jason to get home from work, decked out in my cute little jeans that make my bum look smallish. I'm still wearing my bra and a nice shirt, too, so that I will still look presentable when he gets home. (Overall, still closer to Roseanne on the done-up scale than to Donna Reed, but trying, anyway.) The minutes tick by as I squirm in my uncomfortable clothes, trying to relax and enjoy another gross-out episode of CSI:Miami. My mind keeps returning to thoughts of the sweats, washed, dried, and folded neatly in my closet. But I resist putting them on and wait for Jason.

And wait.

By the time he gets home, it's close to 10:30, and I give him a quick hello, barely listen to some stories about his day, and then race to the closet to change into the sweats. He saw me in the jeans and shirt, right? As long as he saw me, even if only for five minutes, I get credit, right?

But credit from whom? He probably didn't even notice. And I spent two-and-a-half hours cooped up in tight, pinchy jeans when I could have been lounging in soft, cozy fleece.

So from now on, husbands of the world, a new rule: if you're going to get home from work after 9pm, please do not expect to see your wife's cute little denim bottom and perky little push-up bra. Instead, you can expect to see your wife in amorphous $6 sweats. But, hey - at least she'll be soft to snuggle.


  1. this is so adorably funny. i totally feel like it is a chore to stay "dressed up" (jeans/sweater/bra) when i am lounging around the house with no intentions of leaving it until the next day. the minute i get home its back to the bedroom for doggie slippers, fleece pants, hoodie - jewelry comes off, bra comes off and all is right with the world. just don't "pop-in" on me.

  2. I'm the exact same way, but so is Eric! Within seconds of entering the house we are both in sweatpants and hoodies, butts glued to the sofa. The only thing I don't take off is my makeup, just in case there is a fire. I wouldn't want to firemen to have nightmares :P

  3. lol! I just love you Kellie!

  4. Are you sure Jason likes the jeans better than the sweats?
    I love it when my wife wears her sweats... especially if they have cuddly animals on them!

  5. Hi! I'm visiting from MBC. Great blog.