What’s the first thing you do when you get home from work? Flip through the mail? Say hello to your significant other/pet/pet who is your significant other? Or maybe something totally deranged like put on your gym clothes and go for a run? No, you don’t do any of those things. You do what I do, what every other red-blooded, blue-blooded, and whatever-blooded human being in the world does. You sprint–not run, mind you–but sprint into the bedroom and put on your sweatpants. And then, finally you are happy. Because life doesn’t really begin until you’ve got your sweatpants on.
I’ll be honest, there are times I don’t even make it to the bedroom. Sometimes I get a few steps inside my front door, decide the terrible prison that is a pair of blue jeans has become unbearable, and drop ‘em right there in the living room. Now granted, I’m a lunatic. But to me, that is just how dire the need for sweats is–that I will disrobe before I even get to them, just to show them the proper respect. “What? No, sweatpants, I would never dream of wearing anything other than you. Was I just wearing slacks? Absolutely not. I mean, do you see any slacks on my legs? No you do not!” And I’m a writer. It’s not like I’ve been out of the house all that long. 3, 4 hours, tops. But I gotta be in my sweats asap, and I have a feeling you’re a lot like me. Well, hopefully not too much like me. I mean, someone’s gotta handle some actual responsibility around here. But I’ve considered just hanging my sweatpants on the front door knob, so I can put them on the second I arrive home. I haven’t done it, because my dignity has yet to swing quite so low, but it will. Will it ever.
Here’s the thing: you wanna wear sweatpants all the time, and I wanna wear sweatpants all the time, so why aren’t we all just friggin’ wearing sweatpants all the time?! Why do we do this to ourselves? The system we have now is that a few people wear sweatpants outdoors, and we all scoff while thinking in the back of our heads, “goddamn it would I like to be wearing sweatpants right now.” But we can change. And unite! What I’m proposing here is a sweatpant movement. All of us wear sweatpants, all the time, and all of us will be happy. It can’t just be a few of us, because then we (i.e. me) will look like slouches. But if WE ALL get on board the sweatpant gravy train, then we’ll have a full-fledged slouch revolution on our hands. Kate Upton: sweatpants. Ryan Gosling: sweatpants. Michelle Obama: sweatpants. Who of us can complain if Michelle Obama is wearing sweatpants?! What, you think you’re better than the First Lady? Well, you’re not. So take off those khakis and put on some Zubaz. STAT.
I know what you’re thinking. Doesn’t it feel good to dress up? To put on your finest duds and see the sparkle in other peoples’ eyes as you walk past, looking stylish and debonair? And yeah, I guess it does feel good, but not as good as soft, forgiving cotton rubbing against your legs 24 hours a day. That feels GOOD. The admiration of others feels lower-case good, tops. Plus, who’s to say you couldn’t garner the same recognition in our new Russell Athletic society? Going to the theater for the night? Put on your pin-striped sweats. Looking for some glamour? Well pull out your BeDazzler and make your lethargy shine! Or, if you want to show a little skin, pull them up to your knees. Or cut out the butt cheeks. I’m just spitballing here. Point is, there are options for everyone! “Hey bartender at this fancy New York dance club, can I have a martini? $20, you say? Well let me just fish my wallet out of my giant front pouch, and drop the fine lady’s phone number I was just handed into my seemingly endless side pocket. Thank you sweatpants, and thank you America.”
Quietly, women have already started the comfort revolution. They wear Lululemons, which I have been told are like a second skin, and no one says boo. Mostly because Lululemons look hot, and men will take the closest thing to women not wearing clothes as they can possibly get. But it’s time for all of us to hop aboard the leisure bandwagon. A bandwagon where we all dress like we did in third grade. I hope that in the coming months and years, someone will take a stand. A politician will come out and say “I am running on a platform of comfortable clothing. We should all wear it, it just makes sense!” I would vote for him, or her (let’s honest, it’s probably gonna be a him), and I hope you will too. Because we should be honest with ourselves and each other. No more hiding. Sweatpants now, and sweatpants forever. Yes we can.