Dear Ms. Mendes,
I read an article today that quoted you in an interview as saying ‘sweatpants are the number one reason for divorce’. Immediately, I was crushed. I knew divorce paperwork must be in the works for me. I mean, I wear sweatpants/stretchy pants/yoga pants/any form of pants with an elastic waist band about, mmmm, 9 days out of the week.
Seeing my huge, empathetic heart, I thought long and hard about your statement and came to this conclusion: If I was you and had Ryan Gosling as my arm candy, money to cover all my bills, and the ability to go into hiding when I was pregnant so no one would see me, I’d likely not wear sweat pants either. I’d wear gold pants. Nawh, that’s a lie; I’d wear NO PANTS.
Eva, you so silly.
Here are a few reasons this (likely soon-to-be-divorced) woman wears her stretchy, sweatpant get-ups:
1. They are comfortable and I can wear them without underwear. Anything that leads to less laundry around my home is a big bonus. I don’t have a housekeeper who does my laundry so I revel in any moment that results in less laundry for me. My child does about 19 outfit changes a day and that’s enough laundry to drive any woman mad, so, sweatpant, no undergarmet-wearin’ it is for this gal.
2. They cover my hairy legs. Now, if I had your man on my arm, I’d likely shave at least once a week, but Ryan Gosling chose you over me. When he made that choice, I made the choice to shave my stems a couple times a month. Sweats hide scary, hairy shit. No one knows you are growing the Amazon Jungle underneath and they provide for a great jungle-leg barrier.
3. They are forgiving. I cannot afford a personal trainer to ensure that my muffin top stays in check. However, let me be clear, if I could afford a personal trainer to challenge all the carbohydrates I inhale, I’d likely still not hire one. Something about running and sweating just doesn’t sound fun to me. Sweats and stretchy pants fit on any day. I ate roughly the equivalent of a small newborn baby’s worth of corned beef and sauerkraut the other night and guess what? My sweats still loved me! They let my jungle-legs dive RIGHT ON IN. We sat together happily (and comfortably) in my bed watching your man, Ryan, in The Notebook. It was wonderful.
4. They are controversial. Lately, these yoga pants/sweatpants have stirred up some controversy. I love a scandal and even more so, I love being part of one. Wearing yoga pants makes me feel like I’m a real rebel. I feel like a real life Bonnie Elizabeth Parker. Hand me a pistol to hide under my baggy sweat pants and I’d be set.
5. They keep the men at bay. I’ve found that when I rock anything other than my sweats or stretchy pants, men seem to just fawn all over me. I’m not sure if it’s my hairy stems or the smell of glazed doughnuts and In N’ Out seeping out the pores of my hairy legs, but the sweats keep the men at an arms reach. I’d hate to make my husband feel bad so I just stick with what I know.
But, now this, sweatpants equal divorce. Damnit! I’m screwed.
So, here I sit, in my stretchy-sweaty pants….waiting to be served my divorce paperwork… It should arrive here any minute…