How many days in a row is it socially acceptable to wear a pair of pants? It’s the question I’ve been asking myself each weekday morning as I peruse my wardrobe. My eyes skim over the jeans (urgh, too tight), the smart slacks (too fancy), the shorts (I think it’s a bit nippy today), and quickly past the dresses (who am I, Kate Middleton?) to inevitably land on the same thing: Hybernate’s Slim Leg pants.
Each time I pull them on I ignore that tiny whisper in the back of my mind saying, “But you wore those yesterday”. I mean, does it really matter that I’ve reduced my work uniform to one item? Steve Jobs did it and look at how successful he was. And besides, what does “socially acceptable” even mean in times of self-isolation, coronavirus and our new WFH lifestyle?
The reason I can’t stop not choosing to pull on these pants is simple: they’re just so damn comfy. The Sydney brand makes sleepwear and loungewear using luxe soft pima cotton so the pants are super cosy. These are made with five per cent spandex so they don’t lose their shape, especially when they’re washed (contrary to what it sounds like, I do wash them), and don’t constrain around the hips like denim often does.
Even though the name “slim leg” suggests they’re tight, they aren’t – the material hangs nonchalantly around my lower half. They’ve got a non-tight elastic waistband so they stay up comfortably, but don’t fall when I make those hasty five-step “walks” to the kitchen to whip up yet another cup of tea. The two darts at the front are a clever addition, taking them from PJ territory, to lounge terrain.
The pant tapers mid-thigh so I don’t look like I’m channelling the noir king, Humphrey Bogart, and while it’s got a roomy seat, it’s not voluminous around the back. Plus (this bit is really exciting) they have pockets (pockets!), so of course everything is instantly better.
But, the thing I really love about my isolation-saviour pants is they are stylish enough that they don’t make me feel like a shut-in slob. Someone could unexpectedly come to my home to deliver a package and I wouldn’t be at all embarrassed. In fact, I’d swing open the door like a house-bound stylister and feel like a professional contributing to society (to society, I tell you!) rather than someone holed-up in the house waiting for the apocalypse to end. And I reckon that’s all you can really ask for in times like these.