Random Thoughts While Buying Pants

My brother-in-law Jason once told me that he finds the random stuff I write about interesting, and intimated that he might even find it more interesting than reading about bigger events that happen in my stay here. This blog, in light of that, is for him and those like him.

After mass, it was too nice to just walk back home. Anticipating that I would feel this way, I had packed a book and my note taking supplies, and after church, I went to The Cabin, a little cafe that I am growing rather fond of. The Cabin was sitting on the sunny side of the street at this time of the day, so I took a seat outside, ordered a roll with turkey and cranberry and a mug of tea. I read The System of Comics sipped my tea, and watched the people parade by me on the street.

Recently, I had gone to the Gregynog conference where I became fast friends with a group of MA students, primarily all of whom were British (some Welsh, some English). There, another American and I were ribbed for saying "pants" instead of "trousers," and the way we say "pants;" me, more so than Aaron, because of the Chicago accent I put on my a's (the same short /a/ sound as in "mat" or "pat"). I still contend that saying "sleeping trousers" is strange, but I was outnumbered.

They also laughed every time I said, "sandwhich," which phonetically sounds like "sammich." These same British people pronounce the /h/ in "herbs," and get annoyed when people (read: me) pronounce the /h/ in "Buckingham Palace." The more I talk to the British, the more I realize they have a strange relationship with the letter /h/.

At any rate, I realized, as I ruminated changing my vocabulary to include "trousers," that I needed some lower-body clothes that were not bluejeans. I own a lot of blue shirts, and wearing blue over blue makes me look, well, too blue. I try to avoid doing that as much as possible. Usually, I have a few pairs of brown, green or khaki colored pants (I'm sorry, trousers just sounds wrong) that I use for the plethora of blue shirts I own. Unfortunately, the one pair of flat front chinos I own (does it raise questions about my sexuality that I know they were chinos?) had breathed their last, and I needed some dress-casual, non-blue colored pants. The only other pair of brownish pants I own are corduroys, and with the warmer weather, they have become increasingly uncomfortable.

The short of it: I needed new trousers.

So I wandered into town, and found a clothing store. The men's section was on the second floor, and featured a small sections of non-denim leg coverings. One thing became immediately apparent: British men really like pants with lots of adornments. Most of the section was dominated by various colored jeans (mostly dark), and almost all of them had hundreds of cargo-style pockets dotting the legs. Often times there would be a big pocket with a smaller pocket sewn onto the outside. Even when cargo pants were popular in America, I avoided the super cargo-pants that had far too many pockets than one man should need. I try to restrain myself to a number of pocket that serve utilitarian purpose: I need two upfront for my keys, money and hands; I need two in the back for my wallet and iPod. Other than that, I find little reason for other pockets. British trouser makers disagree, evidently.

Beside covering their pants with tons of storage, they had a tendency to use really light colored thread on the material to highlight the number of pockets. Which seems ostentatious to me, as if to say: look at me! I'm clearly important to need so many pockets! It had the odd effect of turning the legs of the pants into a mosaic of material.

I find one small rack of greyish-brown pants tucked in the corner, and found a pair of 34 - Longs. If anyone has seen me turning my track career, they know that I am mostly legs. Having watched me do hurdles or long jump, one might assume that I had a second set of knees up near the middle of my chest, that connect directly below my shoulders. This has made buying pants really difficult. Especially since, until recently, I had been very slender, and needed pants that were longer than they were wide (a very unAmerican tendency).

When I left for Wales, I was a 34 W/32 I (far more American than when I was a freshman in high school and wore a 29 W/32 I). Putting on the pants at the clothing store in downtown Aberystwyth, I realized something sort of exciting: I can now wear the same pants I wore at the end of high school/beginning of college: 32 W/32 I. This was exciting indeed, as that was when I felt healthiest in my life. It seems having less food laying around my house and needing to walk up and down a hill to get essentials has done some good for me.

Another realization hit me: British like tight pants on men. Unfortunately, the one pair of pants that were unbedecked by pockets were straight leg, skinny jeans for men. I was suddenly faced with a choice: buy pants covered in pockets, or pants that highlight exactly how skinny I am. I chose neither, and left the store disappointed.

To make myself feel better, I bought an Magnum Classic ice-cream bar. Those people at the Magnum ice-cream bar company really know what they are doing when it comes to ice-cream bars. I usually hate ice-cream bars, but this was delicious.

I had also needed some groceries, so I walked over to the Co-op Grocery store, choosing quality over frozen food. On my way there, I passed a department store in which I had purchased most of my kitchen gadgetry. I bet the sell pants here, I thought, and went in expected to be surrounded by skinny chinos and uber-cargo jeans. Thankfully, they had a few pairs of flat-front, wider legged, casual dress pants. With a sigh of relief, I bought two: a grayish-brown pair, and a greenish-brown pair. Very earth-toney. After I got my groceries and walked home, I realized that it had been, overall, an eventful day.