Everyone has an article of clothing in the depths of their closet that is a last resort. Reaching for this item of clothing means one thing and one thing only…
Do your damn laundry.
(I put it in italics to make it seem less aggressive and more ladylike.)
For some it’s their last clean white button down shirt, for others it's that pair of ripped up light wash jeans that was so “in” a few years ago but now is just bleh. And for a small group of others it’s that last pair of panties that are by no means functional, but you find a way to make them work anyway. For me, I know it’s time to do laundry when I am faced with the following choice:
Wear dirty workout pants.
Wear a pair of moss green Hard Tail sweatpants that were purchased in the Brass Plum department of Nordstrom circa 2005.
Do y’all remember those pants? They were ALL THE RAGE growing up in LA. All the girls at school wore them. They were lululemon before lululemon was ever a thing, and before people ever used yoga as an excuse to dress like that in public. They were made of a super tight spandex cotton material with a band around the waist that was meant to be folded down to reveal the little “Hard Tail” logo on the back. They were meant to be worn so low that your hip bones showed, and sometimes girls would even purposely let their g-strings poke out the top. And as if that's not bad enough, they retailed (and I’m pretty sure still do) for $73.00. Naturally my mother made them absolutely off limits.
Still, I would beg and beg every time we walked through Nordstrom past the Hard Tail display on our way to the St. John department. "PLEEEEEASE Mommy PLEEEASE let me have a pair of Hard Tail pants. ALL the cool girls are wearing them PLEEEEEASE." I struggled a lot being a teenager in LA with trying to fit in when I was just so inherently displaced, but in things like these pants I found a potential way "in" for myself. My mother, ever the gracious Southern Woman, found a compromise. She picked me up from school one day and told me there was a surprise waiting for me in the back seat. I saw a Nordstrom bag and was over the moon. She had finally given in. She had finally purchased me a pair of Hard Tail pants. Possibly one of the skankiest articles of clothing ever sold was now in my possession and I was thrilled. I reached into the bag and felt not one but TWO PAIR. Christmas had come early. I pulled out the first pair and they were baby blue. Yes… baby blue. The next pair was only a tiny bit better: moss green. You see these incredibly… bold, yes, bold colors had been put on clearance. I think my mother paid $30.00 for the pair of them. If there has ever been a woman who could find a bargain it’s my mother. Anyway, she knew that by buying the pants in these colors that I would never wear them publicly, but this way I could at least tell the girls at school that I owned 2 pair, which somehow, in those early teen years, made all the difference. She saw that. She’s a gem my mother… she really is.
Well you know what they say about hindsight being 20/20. It took a few years but I finally caught on to just how horrible the Hard Tail fashion trend was (I’ve learned with age that my mother is ALWAYS right about these things), so I put them away in a drawer never to be seen again. But I discovered them recently and believe it or not there was something about the nostalgia of the pants that made me smile. The moss green pair has become my go to lounge pant (the pair of pants that you put on when you don't want to put on real clothes but also can't allow yourself to stay in your pajamas all day). They even have a giant Journaler’s Remorse ink stain on one of the legs from falling asleep with my journal and pen open in my lap. But on a night like tonight I am faced with a choice... and I just can’t see myself reaching into my hamper and pulling out something dirty to wear. On night's like tonight the Hard Tail’s become so much more than my go to lounge pant.
I'd be proud that they still fit if I weren't so ashamed. But even though they still fit, I have never been one to roll them down around my hips. I will be wearing my moss green Hard Tail pants around my proper waist, thank you very much, which means the forecast predicted for this workout is sweaty with a chance of camel toe.
What all this comes down to, of course, that tomorrow will be laundry day. And I’m dreading it. I used to be so conscientious about my laundry. I would separate my whites from colors, use bleach and color booster when appropriate, and always pick the right setting. But Laundromat laundry has changed the game for me. At $3.25 a cycle I can’t be bothered with all that business anymore. For instance, the care instructions for my new pair of DL jeans state that I am to “wash them separately at 30 degrees Celsius.” Bitch please... you're going in this ancient three setting washing machine on cold with my yoga pants and bath towels. Ain't nobody got time for that.
With Grace and Good Humor,