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Now, I am sure my friend will not crucify me for telling you that he is not what you would call a man of very sophisticated style: He wears shorts pretty much every single day, no matter how weather inappropriate the attire may be, he owns sweaters that are older than me, and trousers are pretty much a funeral only affair. Hell, he has not one, but two pairs of crocs. One of them is even “a multi-terrain shoe with fur lining!” Bless his soul…..

On that faithful International Sweatpants Day in the year of the Lord 2024,  it came to pass that my boyfriend suggested we take a hike. Here’s the thing: I never wear sweat pants outside the house, not even for hiking, be damned if I did! It’s a slippery slope you see, one day you are wearing sweatpants to the grocery store, the next day you feed your neighbour’s dead kittens to your children. As Jerry Seinfeld put it, it’s a sign to the world that you have given up. It’s really as straight forward as that: there are only two kinds of people, functional members of society, and sweatpants people.

Well, this day I thought, “Why not shake things up a little?” After all, my friend had gone through great troubles to send me a prefabricated image he found online, just to wish me. That’s gotta count for something, right? My soul was so innocent back then. My boyfriend even asked me “Are you sure you want to wear that?” as if the universe was extending a hand to bring me back into the light, before I plunged into the loopback jersey abyss. So off we went, my boyfriend, me, and the grey atrocity that calls itself “sports-leasure legwear”.

Soon, we arrived at one of the most beautiful trees I’ve ever seen. It’s majestic stem revealed that this tree was several hundred years old, it’s many branches winding themselves above our heads, telling the tales of many storms and weathers. And there, in the dappled light, my boyfriend went down on one knee, and told me that he wanted to marry me! It was perfect, except… ridiculous pant of the devil!

The one day, the ONE day I wear sweatpants outside of the house, had to be the day I got engaged! Of course, my friend will never hear the end of this. But what is friendship without a pinch of antagonism?

You could ask me why this bothers me. And, truth be told, it really doesn’t. To me, my engagement was perfect, not because of how it happened, but because it didn’t matter how it happened, only to whom I got engaged. And, truth be told, I think it’s a cute story. At the end of the day, pants are pants, nothing more and nothing less. What matters is who you’re sharing your life with, no matter in which attire you live this life.

P.S.: I wrote this blog while wearing sweatpants. Make of that what you will.