Letter to my Red Pants
Dear Red Pants from American Eagle,
Let me start off by saying that I love you! I really do! I remember the first time we met. My sister and I were shopping where you were being sold and you caught my attention, along with the blue pants, the green ones, and probably some yellow ones. My sister asked me if I wanted a pair. I was hesitant. She stated with confidence, you need some color in your life. I shrugged, agreeing, she's right. Just in case you didn't know, that's how you became mine. We were inseparable. I wore you just as much as my favorite pair of jeans (also from American Eagle). I wore you with sandals and sneakers. Your fitting personality complimented my shirts very well. Thinking to myself, I would say, we look good together. I've washed you many times via washing machine and local cleaners. Seeing you nicely cleaned and pressed would brighten my day. You were always a spring/summer hit.
You're probably wondering why I'm writing you. Well, Red Pants, it's not easy for me to say this. I will say that for the record, you've been a great addition to my ensemble. Most recently, I've sport you with brown, casual shoes, similar to Oxfords. I added an additional brown belt with a tucked in fitted button-up and a blue tie patterned with tiny, red roses. Nice, right? That's what I thought. All was well until something happened. I started getting compliments from women about how nice they look. I became conscious of the fact that women started looking at my lower body in a way that some of us men view them. As a man with much self respect, I can honestly say that I was slightly offended. I knew that If I did the same, I would get slapped with a sexual harassment charge and become shunned by where I work, let alone my department. Personally, I don't like drawing attention to myself. Having eyes glance at my torso from across the room objectifies me in a way that's quite uncomfortable. Many women would probably assume all men are okay with that. Not this one.
Another eye opener was realizing that I've gotten bigger since I turned 30. I'll be 32 in October and you don't fit me like you did in my 20s. I'm sure it's from sitting at work opposed to walking around like I did at my former place of employment. Either way, a decision had to be made. There are plans in the works to get in better shape. As you know, I work out 5 times a week. I'm not complacent with how I fit most of my clothes. I am, however, aware that comes with the price of getting older. I'm okay with that. The thing that doesn't sit with me is the tightening of my clothing, revealing aspects of my body that should be accessible only to my wife (whenever I get married). So, in honor of that, I will only wear you during casual occasions. If you continue to fit me tightly in the next month, I will have to do the unthinkable--donate you to a consignment store. The anger you may feel is understandable. I'll be red with anger myself (get it? Red...with anger? Too soon to joke?).
I'm not that young anymore. I'm more into comfort and longevity. You've supplied me with both over the last few years, but things are changing, especially me. You've been the same through out and I appreciate that. I'm growing, my friend, in more ways than one. I'll be going to grad school soon. My shoe game isn't on point like other men, but it's enough to get me by with my own swag. Don't take this short letter as impersonal. Your value is beyond words. That day my sister offered to link us up was one of the best decisions. You've inspired me to consider buying blue pants, green pants, and maybe even white ones someday. Who knows! Remember, if you can, that you were apart of the evolution of my style. You are a major aspect of it. We'll see each other on the weekends. Peace and much thanks to holding it down.
CJ
Let me start off by saying that I love you! I really do! I remember the first time we met. My sister and I were shopping where you were being sold and you caught my attention, along with the blue pants, the green ones, and probably some yellow ones. My sister asked me if I wanted a pair. I was hesitant. She stated with confidence, you need some color in your life. I shrugged, agreeing, she's right. Just in case you didn't know, that's how you became mine. We were inseparable. I wore you just as much as my favorite pair of jeans (also from American Eagle). I wore you with sandals and sneakers. Your fitting personality complimented my shirts very well. Thinking to myself, I would say, we look good together. I've washed you many times via washing machine and local cleaners. Seeing you nicely cleaned and pressed would brighten my day. You were always a spring/summer hit.
You're probably wondering why I'm writing you. Well, Red Pants, it's not easy for me to say this. I will say that for the record, you've been a great addition to my ensemble. Most recently, I've sport you with brown, casual shoes, similar to Oxfords. I added an additional brown belt with a tucked in fitted button-up and a blue tie patterned with tiny, red roses. Nice, right? That's what I thought. All was well until something happened. I started getting compliments from women about how nice they look. I became conscious of the fact that women started looking at my lower body in a way that some of us men view them. As a man with much self respect, I can honestly say that I was slightly offended. I knew that If I did the same, I would get slapped with a sexual harassment charge and become shunned by where I work, let alone my department. Personally, I don't like drawing attention to myself. Having eyes glance at my torso from across the room objectifies me in a way that's quite uncomfortable. Many women would probably assume all men are okay with that. Not this one.
Another eye opener was realizing that I've gotten bigger since I turned 30. I'll be 32 in October and you don't fit me like you did in my 20s. I'm sure it's from sitting at work opposed to walking around like I did at my former place of employment. Either way, a decision had to be made. There are plans in the works to get in better shape. As you know, I work out 5 times a week. I'm not complacent with how I fit most of my clothes. I am, however, aware that comes with the price of getting older. I'm okay with that. The thing that doesn't sit with me is the tightening of my clothing, revealing aspects of my body that should be accessible only to my wife (whenever I get married). So, in honor of that, I will only wear you during casual occasions. If you continue to fit me tightly in the next month, I will have to do the unthinkable--donate you to a consignment store. The anger you may feel is understandable. I'll be red with anger myself (get it? Red...with anger? Too soon to joke?).
I'm not that young anymore. I'm more into comfort and longevity. You've supplied me with both over the last few years, but things are changing, especially me. You've been the same through out and I appreciate that. I'm growing, my friend, in more ways than one. I'll be going to grad school soon. My shoe game isn't on point like other men, but it's enough to get me by with my own swag. Don't take this short letter as impersonal. Your value is beyond words. That day my sister offered to link us up was one of the best decisions. You've inspired me to consider buying blue pants, green pants, and maybe even white ones someday. Who knows! Remember, if you can, that you were apart of the evolution of my style. You are a major aspect of it. We'll see each other on the weekends. Peace and much thanks to holding it down.
CJ
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