Pants

I attended a production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" tonight. It was set in 19th century South America with this whole imperialism/colonization background built into the performance. What I really enjoyed was the fairy choreography. The actors playing the fairies were trained in modern dance and Capoeira--two of my favorite arts. The Capoeira was especially effective in differentiating the fairy world from the Athenian world and fit perfectly with the South American setting.

Unfortunately, there were some bad pants. Two of the main male characters had TERRIBLE pants. I was so distracted. I may be a pants snob. One of my greatest triumphs in life thus far was convincing my sister to rid her closet of skinny-legged jeans, and I cry a little bit every time I think about the brown jeans Marmot Dad used to wear. In college, Amy and I knew this guy who had these lovely eyes and was perfectly nice, but every time we referred to him, we included the disclaimer (as if people needed to be warned about a shocking flaw--"now he's very nice but you should know--he sells crack to kindergarteners") that he wore pleated jeans.

I'm a pants snob, but I also own and wear unattractive pants myself. Several months ago, I looked in my full length mirror and realized that my black work pants didn't fit AT ALL. They were way too big (and, no, I didn't lose weight--I guess they just never fit right). I'd been wearing those pants a lot. Every week for years. And I even wore them to work that day, because I didn't have any other clean work pants, but I felt awkward all day. Our director stopped me to ask me about something, and the whole time I was singing in my head, "I look like a freeeeakshow." I've seen him wear tights and capes and all kind of wacky stuff, though, so he probably didn't even notice.