Saturday, 23 June 2012
You know how we always complain about the state of our husband's underwear? I mean, it's not unwarranted. They will wear those things until they fall off.
Correction: when those underwear lose the elastic, they will still hike them up with their jeans.
They can be so thread bare that they leave nothing to the imagination. They can have holes in them and practically get up and walk away by themselves. And they can have that certain smell that will never go away and will infect everything in the laundry with them.
But they are still good right?
We devise stealthy plans to get rid of this affront to humanity without our husbands finding out. Because when they figure out what we're up to, they will pull the underwear from the trash or our sneaky hiding place and defend them saying, "they're still good." (or more likely, the offending pair will get up and walk out of the trash themselves and situate themselves at the top of your lovingly purchased new pile of underwear in the drawer.)
I have two pairs of yoga shorts purchased from La Senza way back when I was 21 (that's 14 years ago people!) that fit into the "husband's underwear" category.
They're still good right?
I wear them as pajamas. In fact, I wore them as pajamas all the way through University.
Here I am on Christmas morning 2004 (the year after I graduated from university) wearing them.
I wore them all through the pregnancy (both pregnancies in fact!).
I was probably wearing them when Terry proposed to me.
I might have even been wearing them on our wedding night when we got home from the beach.
They have been stretched in all sorts of directions with my various weight gains and loses.
They are threadbare. I'm not going to lie.
I have a snip in the leg of the pink ones (which aren't really pink anymore, but rather a dull beige) from when I was hand sewing something and cut through the shorts while trying to cut some thread.
They have a certain waft - let me just call it "scent du baby puke/root beer/nachos".
If Terry cared at all he would have developed a plan to have these shorts disappear years ago.
But really, now I have no defense when I try to throw out his favourite t-shirt that he's been wearing for so many years that the arm pits have literally dissolved under the intense sweaty pressure.
In my defense: I have grabbed a pattern from my beloved shorts and have begun to sew myself a new pair.
Yoga short version 2.0 :D
Do you have a favourite article of clothing that has seen better days? Do you hold onto it with all your might and refuse to get rid of it until they pry it out of your cold dead hands? :P
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