Okay, so I think it’s time to come up to the surface-level from my deepness on consumerism last week.
Let me be clear: this is not a fashion post. Trust me, I am not stylish enough to give you advice on what to wear. This is, however, a fashion rant.
[Shall I get up on my soapbox? Okay, good.]
The topic at hand: leggings.
Now, this is certainly not another treatise on how leggings are not pants. We all know that, unless you don’t ever get on the internet. In that case, you wouldn’t be reading this anyway.
Let me be clear that I love love love leggings. They are extremely comfortable. Also, they are comfortable. And did I mention they are comfortable?
Oh no, my qualm with these spandex glories is twofold. First, I never can seem to find them long enough. Seriously, after like one wash of my “ankle length” beauties they shrink to cropped or capri length. [Nope, I don’t put them in the dryer. I’m not an idiot.] This problem leads me to a confession: last fall and winter, when my “baby” was already a year old, I wore my maternity leggings. I’m talking about the kind that has the full panel to cover the entire third-trimester belly, so now that the belly is no longer, they come up to my armpits. Why would I inflict such a disaster upon myself? Well, they actually reached my ankles. Imagine that.
And this length-situation is ridiculous, because I have extremely short legs. Like, I have to get every pair of pants I own hemmed, or I have to wear them with heels. I roll the legs of almost all my jeans. Most middle-schoolers have legs longer than mine.
That brings us to the second issue, which is the main point of this post. And this is “bunching.” I have legs that are very far from skinny, and yet, I always seem to get bunching around my knees and/or ankles. I see models with legs the width of angel-hair pasta and their leggings fit snugly. How, oh how, is this possible?
Case in point: Even though we’re keeping things pretty simple around here, financially-wise, I decided that I just couldn’t wear maternity leggings for another season. Also, logic tells me that the material and simplicity of leggings means that I should be able to find a decent pair for under $25. Am I asking too much? Apparently.
After hours of
procrastinating my work google-ing legging recommendations, I saw a few bloggers highly recommend the Lauren Conrad brand at Kohl’s. [Incidentally, I am proud of LC’s success in comparison to all of her reality co-stars disastrous lives.] These leggings were not available online [my hermit-self’s preferred method of shopping], so I packed up the toddler and drove alllll the way across town to this pseudo-department store. They had my size in black. Of course I actually tried them on…and they were perfect! And cheap! I felt so smug in my “researched,” thrifty purchase.
That is, until I tried to wear them today. As soon as I put them on, I noticed how crazily they fit. Nevertheless, I wore them anyway, because it was literally 8:55, and we were going to 9:00 Mass. [I know I know…]
Would you like to see some pictures to prove my point? Yes? Your wish is my command.
Here is the whole outfit to get some perspective. Please note the classy pleather shoulders:
This has nothing to do with the point of this post, but I just really like my necklace. I got it for like $4 a few years ago, and every time I wear it, I mentally give myself a high five:
Okay, here is evidence of the bunching:
This is ridiculous, right?
Maybe I am too short? Maybe they are too cheap? Maybe my knees are oddly shaped?
I really have no idea the point of this tirade. There are significantly more pressing issues in the world and even in my own life, but if you can’t vent about a fashion atrocity on your own blog, then where can you do it?
So… Do any of you have long, non-bunching legging recommendations? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
[Meh, since this is technically What I Wore Sunday, I might as well link-up.]