Thursday, January 29, 2015

The Yoga Pants Debate

In the last few years, but particularly in recent weeks, there has been a lot of debate about the appropriateness – or lack thereof – of Yoga pants and leggings.  One blogger recently wrote a post about her decision to honor God and her husband by ceasing to wear the aforementioned pants.  Because her leggings were attracting lustful thoughts from other men.

As far as my ass is concerned, I’m certain that no lustful thoughts are being directed at it.  Ever.  But when it comes to yoga pants – which I wear so often my husband calls them my uniform – my entire lower half looks like I was beaten with a bag of quarters before packing my skin with cottage cheese.  Not exactly lust-attracting.

Thanks Ryan
*I do not own the rights to this image.

Either this “God-and-husband-honoring” girl has amazing legs or a highly elevated sense of self.  But I hope that she is also planning on giving up skirts, bathing suits, shirts, jeans, shorts, dresses, pajama pants, burkas, saris, makeup, skin, hair, sweat pants, boobs, undergarments, her face, and all of her limbs.  Also breathing.  And leaving the house.  Because lust and desire are always present, and clothes don’t typically stop someone from feeling attraction.  Oh, and also she should maybe stop placing the blame on herself for the actions of men.
I have also seen women body-shame other women about the way they look in Yoga pants and leggings.  Stop being bitches, ladies.  The way we look in specific pants shouldn’t deem them appropriate or inappropriate.  I mean, leggings and yoga pants are simply making our legs look like what they actually are: legs.  The nerve!  Unless your pants are completely see-through, you’re rocking a camel toe the size of the Grand Canyon, or your vagina is hanging out of a hole in the crotch, then I think you are likely fine.

When I am not at work or out on a date with Mr. B, then I am in Yoga pants.  Mostly because I have aspirations of going to the gym each day and I hate doing needless extra laundry.  But also because they are comfortable as hell.  They suck in my tummy a little and let me move freely as I play with Little K, walk The Girls, and run up and down the stairs all damn day in this godforsaken split-level house we bought.  And if I do go somewhere, I always hope the people I run into will think, “Geez she must work out all the time!  She always looks like she just came from the gym.”  But in all likelihood, they aren't thinking about me nearly as much as I think about me.

But seriously.
*I do not own the rights to this image.

Back to the husband-honoring thing...  The only conversation Mr. B and I have ever had about my choice of pants was this one:

Do you think these leggings are a little too tight?  I haven’t worn them for a while and I think I might need a bigger size.”
No I think they are fine.”
Are you sure?”
Yep.  But some of your Yoga pants aren’t looking so good.”
Excuse me?!”
Yeah.  The other day I noticed one of your pairs was looking kind of thin.  I could see your underwear through them.”
Oh my God!  Are you kidding me?  I wear Yoga pants to the chiropractor!  He has probably seen my underwear through my pants!  I go grocery shopping in them!  The whole town and all of the people who work at the coffee shop probably know what color my underwear are!  Why didn’t you tell me?”
Probably.  I thought you knew.”
What do you mean, you thought I knew?!?!”
I just assumed you didn’t care.”
Well I may not dress like I care, but good Lord, babe!  I don’t want everyone to see my underwear!”

He literally could not care any less about the pants I put on my ass.  Although I am a little pumped concerned that he is totally okay with the amount that I have “let myself go”.  What’s great is that every time I put on jeans and makeup, he is really impressed with my beauty.  It’s a pretty sneaky strategy.

The only time I have ever given my Yoga pants and leggings a second thought was after Mr. B’s helpful insight, and it was only to bend over in front of the mirror and check my underwear situation – which isn't exactly easy.

-Do I think that dressing appropriately for certain situations is important?  Yes.  I would not go to church in my bathing suit (though I really try not to ever wear a bathing suit).

-Do I think that there is a benefit in being modest?  Of course.  But modesty means something different to everyone.

-Do I think that the bagina and the ta-tas should stay covered?  Yep.  Particularly if a child’s head has deformed the lower and pregnancy and age have lengthened the upper.  Also for sanitary reasons.

-Do I think you should dress in a way that brings you comfort both physically and mentally?  Yes.  You deserve to be able to move your body unrestricted and with comfort.  

-Do I think you should feel shame for having a body or for having legs that look like legs?  No way.

-Do I think blaming specific items of clothing for creating lust is perpetuating Rape Culture?  100% yes.

-Do I think that it’s absolutely absurd for schools to ban the wearing of skinny jeans, Yoga pants, and leggings?  Obviously, yes.  It’s absolutely inappropriate for schools to sexualize the bodies of young girls.  Kids with raging hormones lust after one another no matter what kind of clothing is banned; and one person's clothing should never be the blame of another person's inappropriate behavior.

I also think it’s highly unlikely that God is as interested in your wardrobe choices as much as He is interested in your heart and mind and actions.  I doubt your husband cares if you wear spandex or jeans or lingerie.  I’m pretty sure that as long as you spend time with his lower brain on a fairly regular basis, he wouldn't care if you made your own clothes out of duct tape, rat hair, and glass shards – he just might not accompany you anywhere in public.

Be comfortable.  Wear leggings.  And thank you for keeping me In Good Company.

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1 comment:

  1. Thank you for not caring about my pants. And for posting that epic skit. Tomorrow when I still have the tight pants song in my head, I'm sure I'll be continuing to thank you!


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