The hard truth about hard pants
“More hard pants is BOLD!”
My friend Heidi wrote these very words in response to seeing “more hard pants” in my Year of More post. And you know what? She wasn’t wrong. That was a bold resolution. I’ve only managed to wear hard pants on exactly one of January’s 38 days.
First of all, let’s define hard pants for those who might not be familiar:
Hard pants
[hahrd pænts]
NOUN
A garment for covering the lower half of one’s body, typically secured at the waist by a system of zippers, buttons and/or clasps.
Gemini elaborates further:
That captures it well, I think, though as a purist I object to the last photo. Elastic waistbands disqualify those from being true hard pants. More on that later.
Anyway, this year I aspire to wear more hard pants because to do so is a declaration.
Hard pants are a signal of active participation in society. One doesn’t wear leggings to the opera. Sweatpants are generally frowned upon at weddings. Soft pants whisper “comfort me.” Hard pants announce to the world you’re made of tougher stuff.
I could write many words about why I’ve retreated into soft pants for so many years: I’ve now been working from home for nearly half my career; athleisure trends have made it more acceptable to traipse around in what used to be gym-only attire; and a series of losses caused me to crumple inward upon myself.
But the main reason I’m struggling to meet my hard-pants challenge this year is purely physical: my stupid aching back.
What does my back have to do with hard pants? I’m so glad you asked.
In August 2024, my life as I’d known it screeched to a halt because of one simple act: bending down to pick up my dog’s leash. I heard an awful crack and doubled over in pain. I hobbled to my bed and basically stayed there for a full month before I was able to leave the house and see a doctor. I’ll spare you the details of the diagnosis and my recovery, because this is a blog post about pants.
Overnight, I became someone who couldn’t tolerate rigid waistbands because they made every symptom markedly worse. I’m not making this up. Suddenly I couldn’t sit in real pants. I couldn’t exercise in them. And I definitely couldn’t sleep in them — in fact, I am now a human being who can’t sleep with anything constricting my waist, not even pajama pants.
It me.
Now, I think/hope this isn’t a permanent situation. My physical therapy regime is extensive, and it’s working. I had a pretty significant setback a couple of months ago and already I’m functioning a lot more normally. But right now, I still find it challenging to wear hard pants for more than a few hours at a time.
In the interim, I’ve transitioned into what I’m calling the reverse mullet of hard pants — business (hard fabric) on the bottom, party (elastic) at the top. Thankfully the makers of women’s apparel were already leaning into this trend. Witness these and these. They don’t look so bad!
But still, even if no one else knows they’re not truly hard pants, I know. And I am determined to chuck them to the back of the closet in short order.