Walking the Tightrope: Wearing The Trousers
Sally Codman is determined to go on wearing the trousers, even if she hates the task of buying them, as she reveals in this ebullient column.
Whenever I try on a pair of trousers in a shop a horrid little rhyme pops into my head and has me twisting this way and that and asking 'does my bum look big in these?'
Sadly the answer is always yes but I'm at that age where I don't care enough to stop wearing them.
The nasty little rhyme goes; 'You clothed your limbs in trousers love, you look divine, my sweeting. That is, of course, as you advance. Have you seen yourself retreating?'
No, don't ask me who wrote that particular little penful of poison. As frequently happens the author's name escapes me. However I think we can deduce it was someone who didn't like women wearing the trousers in his house! Answers on a postcard please - no prizes.
Shopping for trousers is something I avoid like the plague until my favourite pairs wear out and I'm forced into action. It's an activity I've always hated - apart from a few years in my late twenties when, encouraged by sporty Mr C, I took up squash and discovered I could squash myself into a size 12 pair of jeans.
This happy state of affairs continue for a few brief years until I became pregnant with Eldest daughter. Today, three children later, I know I shouldn't really be wearing trousers at all. My bum always looks big in them and if the Fashion Police are ever let loose on the street of Mirfield, I'd be one of the first to be arrested.
Despite these sad facts I am a lady of a 'certain age' who doesn't care all that much what she looks like anymore and has no intention of giving up these comfortable garments. After all, no one is forcing people to look at me, I reason, and if I look around long enough I can usually spot someone slightly larger than me sporting even more unflattering and unsuitable trousers.
When my children were small and I was a stay-at-home Mum I was free to descend into the very depths of slobbery. It didn't really matter that the quickest, easiest and yes, I admit, the least-flattering garments I tended to grab in a morning were a pair of trackie bottoms and a t-shirt or sweat shirt depending on the season. If the two happened to match it was an added bonus and if they didn't I wasn't too bothered because you could guarantee that in a couple of hours at the most they would be covered in baby food, paint or something much worse.
Things didn't change much when I went back to University for a year - the trousers just got slightly smarter. Today, shopping for new trousers is much more of an ordeal, as I'm forced to take the opinion of Eldest Daughter into account. Don't get me wrong, E.D. is relatively relaxed as far as fashion goes, but as a teenager there are certain standards of sartorial elegance below which, as her mum, I'm advised not to fall below. At least, not if I'm to be seen in public in her company.
Bearing this in mind she sometimes agrees to accompany me on a trouser-buying expedition - her busy schedule allowing and usually if bribed with a free lunch or the possibility of having an item of clothing bought for her too!
Having survived several of these supervised expeditions I now know that I should not be looking at straight-cut trousers (not as flattering as boot-cut - which is what we used to call flares first time round) and I've also been warned-off those comfy-looking jeans with stretchy tops. Evidently these are the garments of choice for anyone who's in the early stages of pregnancy. So they're a VERY definite NO, NO.
Having once made the mistake of trying on a pair of those fashionable hipsters which display a horrendous amount of gut - which is undeniably ugly whatever your age, unless you have one of those enviously smooth, firm, washboard stomachs - buying trousers these days is harder than ever. It doesn't help matters if you also fall between sizes (no way am I revealing which sizes) where your waist and hip measurements don't match.
Neither does it help when one manufacturer's size 12 is another's size 14, and before you even think of trying anything in an American sizing, seek the help of an interpreter. I must admit that if the latest diet fails, I may even be reduced to hiring the services of a tailor, because by hook or by crook I'm determined to carry on wearing my trousers. 'I'll clothe my limbs in trousers, love, because they're mine, my sweeting. I'll be comfortable when I advance and quicker when retreating!'
