Having lost 25 pounds over the last four months, I wrote this ode to the last pair of pants I could still wear before I lost weight.
Oh! Carhartt green dungarees, this is my song of praise! Your official designation is CARHARTT MEN‘S CANVAS KHAKI RELAXED FIT PANT, STYLE #B299, but that doesn’t do you justice. I’m told that you are “made of 8.5-ounce, 100% ring-spun cotton canvas” and that you feature “a relaxed fitting seat and thigh,” but that doesn’t capture your magic. And your color? The website can say your color is ‘moss,’ but you’ll always be green to me.
Oh! Carhartt green dungarees: my friend, my savior, my fat pants.
You were there, Carhartt green dungarees, when all other pants had let me down. You were there to love me unconditionally, even when there was a little bit more of me to love. When all those other pants cut off my circulation or made for embarrassing scenes when the time came to zip their zipper or snap their snap, you were there.
Carhartt green dungarees: The perfect pantaloons! The bitchinest britches! The jazziest jodhpurs!
But you must have noticed that we are not as tight as we used to be, Carhartt green dungarees. It’s not that I don’t love you anymore, it’s just that we don’t fit together the same way anymore. Things between us have become looser, less . . . jiggly.
It’s not you, Carhartt green dungarees, it’s me. You see, back in high school, my waist size was a cool 30 inches. I could wear my sister’s jeans if I wanted. Not that I did, understand, but I could have if I’d wanted. Then I held fast at a 32 inch waist through college and most of my twenties, but that bumped up to 34 when I became a father and never quite took off the baby weight. I added another two inches up to 36 inches as I settled a tad too comfortably into both middle age and the couch. Finally, I topped out at 38 inches over the last few years as I wallowed in a lethargic brew of mild depression, late night snacks, and Netflix Instant (damn you, reruns of Monk and Colombo!).
Which is where you came in, Carhartt green dungarees. You were sized a comfy 38X32, and I vowed there would be no more moving up sizes. You were the line I drew in the sand. This far and no further.
And I held fast to that pledge, even if my waistline did not. But as I continued to pudge out, you continued to fit. As all other pants were consigned to the back of the drawer, you retained your honored place on the top of the laundry basket. When you were in the washing machine I felt naked . . . because I actually was naked. I even went so far as to buy another pair of Carhartt dungarees in the same style, colored ‘mushroom’ (i.e., light brown), but they did not fit the way you did, Carhartt green dungarees. There was something special between us. Needless to say, you were my pants of choice when I had to fly 15 hours to China in economy class, and when I washed you in the hotel’s sink and hung you out on the balcony to dry, you didn’t even mildew in the humid air of southern China.
I’ll never forget that.
But things are different now that I’ve lost weight. I cleaned out my closet the other day and it was like being given an entirely new wardrobe! You’ve got to understand, these are pants I haven’t worn in ten years! Straight leg jeans, man, straight leg jeans!
I can’t say what the future will bring, Carhartt green dungarees. I’ve kept you in my closet even as I donated all my other fat pants to Goodwill. I owe you that much. But our time together has ended and, if I’m completely honest, I have to say that I hope we never fit together again.
Goodbye, Carhartt green dungarees. And thank you.