I’ve been looking around the vintage reproduction world because I need pants. Which is very, very difficult because I have a 30-inch waist and 44-inch hips. Most pants with a 30-inch waist have 38-40 inch hips. So fuck me, am I right? Here’s what I find strange about the vintage repro world: lots of dresses. Not a lot of pants. Not a lot of blouses. Not a lot of sweaters. I really can’t imagine buying a reproduction dress, because there are a million vintage dresses I want to buy. I’d resort to repro for blouses, sweaters, and pants because there are not a million out there. See? I’m being logical.
If I didn’t do improv, I probably just wouldn’t bother with pants. But improv requires a certain freedom to crawl around on the floor and spread your legs and other non-ladylike business for which pants are a generally recognized requirement. So here I am, bothering with pants. Right now I own one pair of jeans from Target that I hate, a pair of jeggings, and sweatpants. I have worn a nice shirt and sweatpants and gone to parties so attired. THESE ARE THE LENGTHS TO WHICH I MUST GO, GLOBAL PANTS MANUFACTURERS.
So what’s everyone else doing?
It seems that all vintage-loving ladies have Freddie’s of Pinewood jeans. And I see why, because they are nice and classic.
Lovely, right? However, they’re from Britain, so they cost 30 dollars to ship here. For a poor person like me, that’s prohibitive.
Perhaps you’re thinking I could look into retro-styled modern jeans. But alas, I 1) don’t fit into them, 2) nothing comes up to your natural waistline, and 3) modern jeans get holes in the crotch in six months because they’re made out of denim-colored crepe paper. Which means that yesterday I wore jeggings, which make my butt look like a set of bowling balls combined with a pancake. So this is where we are again? Big booty women have to wear stretch pants? Low-rise jeans do nothing for me, and I have spent my life a prisoner of their whims. Years have gone by pulling up the back of my pants every time I sit down, and if I have to sit cross-legged on the floor, someone will indubitably see my underwear. Which in middle school and high school meant thongs. Gross. I am grossing myself out now.
High-waisted pants are gorgeous. Imagine if I could look like this – from Wearing History‘s 1930’s trouser pattern.
Are you going to tell Farrah Fawcett she’s wearing mom jeans?
What about these cool seventies ladies?
Or the princess of pants Katharine Hepburn?
High-waisted pants make you look leggy rather than torso-y. Low-rise pants bisect your body in a weird place and are the reason your grandma has seen your butt crack. So, pants manufacturers, make me some pants that fit already. Jeez Louise.