By Anne T. Donahue
Hello, and welcome: today I am wearing jogging pants. Is this news? Are you excited to hear it? Are you shocked and/or surprised that I willingly poured myself into the softest possible garment I own and complemented it with a t-shirt and flannel from 1973? Of course not. It’s 2020. And as the weather cools down and new outfit inspirations abound, I am here to tell you what clothing you need, what clothing to buy, and what clothing I will personally never wear again, thank you.
Let’s do this.
Jogging pants/leggings/stretchy pants/yoga pants/the softest possible pants available
The rumours are true: I do own jeans. I bought new pairs back in August, and I have worn them semi-regularly because I’m a bitch who likes denim. But that said, I cannot wear them all day. I can and will not wear jeans watching my stories. I can and not wear jeans if I’m bloated or tired or want only to crawl into bed with a pizza and the promise that I do not have to get up. This is why the aforementioned pant selection is crucial: nobody here is about to get fancy. Not a soul is impressed by the aesthetic choices of any other living human. This autumn, you and I will be wearing exactly what we’d like to wear the second we want to wear it. And this means I no longer own “trousers.” How can I, when I can’t nap comfortably while wearing them?
Shoes that are just as – if not more – comfortable
I have seen people wear heels over the last half a year, and to them I offer my congratulations and the note that I admire their effort and general vibe. However, no thank you. I hated heels before, I hate them now (at least for me), and I hate that I would ever be asked to slide myself into them in an attempt to seem together. Which is why I will only wear comfy shoes going forward, long after the worst year in recent memory and with the enthusiasm of someone who’s come to the conclusion that even at weddings I will be wearing Vans. (Mostly because we will be watching weddings on Zoom for the foreseeable future. And you can’t even tell I’m actually wearing bunny slippers when you speak to me.)
Every sweatshirt in the world
Every one. Old ones. New ones. The kind that say things. The kind that zip up a little bit at the top. Hoodies. Full zip. Ones that were a child’s in the 1990s but who cares because you’ve made it work. Today I am a wearing a t-shirt and flannel (more on that later) and while I am in love with my choice, I look forward to when my entire world will revolve around large sweatshirts that will assure me that regardless of how many fried pickles I eat, you will not be able to tell that they make me very sick and my pants way too tight (within about ten minutes of consumption). Hide behind fleece. Or don’t, if you love a tight fleece. Just wear fleece. But believe me when I tell you that those ultra fluffy-looking ones from last year are a trick: they are somehow not warm at all, and way too hot, and oddly short, and make you look like an ewe. I have abandoned them and will never return to their tempting embrace. Instead, I have chosen…
Flannel
Flannel is the greatest material known to this world, it is perfect and we’re dating. Plus, it works with everything. It never fails. It would never let you down, it would never ask you anything that wasn’t its business, it knows how to tie together an outfit that might otherwise look oddly formal for year in which I am considering buying a gaming console for the first time in my life in a sad attempt not to wallow in depression all winter. Right now, I’m wearing one – from the men’s section of Value Village, where I spend half my time (their flannel/sweaters are better) – that’s so big it could easily double as a blanket. And reader? It just may. (It will.)
Sweaters that are somehow even larger
Let me put it this way: if you cannot crawl into a sweater sleeve and get lost in it for eight months, it is a garbage sweater and a disgrace to clothes everywhere. Make the right choice.
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