a piece by Lyndsay Gundesen, a fighter for the peace.
It’s an issue that is in everyone’s hearts, on everyone’s minds, and on many people’s thighs, as well. Ever since the first rains were blessed down in Vancouver, since the controversial union of nylon, spandex and wizardry in deep, dark West Coast caves on dark and temperate nights, and the introduction of ancient Eastern fitness crazes to housewives and housewives-to-be everywhere, our world has been stricken with agitation, uncertainty, and distrust. We don’t know what to expect when we walk outside anymore – our only hope is to keep our gaze well above hip-level and force ourselves to become less uncomfortable with the idea of leggings as pants.
As a self-identified leggings-as-pants supporter and, indeed, compatriot, I speak for all of us judged on our choice of leg-wear. I do, however, recognize and understand the hell that some undergo and battle every day when catching sight of us, in our special kind of stretchy and comfortable heaven. I courageously wish to bridge that ever-widening, gaping gap, and reach out to those who find themselves on that safely-denimed side of the street with one luon-clad leg, and a warm, if tightly wrapped, heart.
I don’t know where this clash of the clothing, this strife against the stretch, all began. I just know that it is time to unite as one fully-clad unit, if we wish to avoid an earth-shattering disseverance of our generation. Let those who wish to don their leggings and proudly show off their backside and impressive calf definition do so without fearing stony glances on the 99 and smirks from those in less daring khaki wrappers. And in turn, legging-wearers, make sure that your leggings are thick enough to hide those parts of you that are not generally publicly applauded (unless you find yourself on Wreck Beach), as to safeguard against negative attention to your leg-wear.
So whether you be a disciple of denim, a lackey of khaki, a sycophant of skirts, a junkie of jeggings, a courtesan to corduroy, a lover of leggings, or an aficionado for absurdly elongated shirts as dresses…let us all put aside our differences, as fanatics of fabric in general. Give pleats (or lack thereof) a chance, before our world is ripped at the seams (or lack thereof).