Today, I improved the lives of people around me, simply by choosing a different pair of pants, and perhaps paying for it with a little sliver of my dignity.
I have a pair of lounging pants. They are a bright, spandex panoply of flashing colours and pac-man designs. They are unequivocably the loudest item of clothing I have, and they were the antithesis of my collar shirt and tie as I donned them both, and strolled over to a fast food joint with a good friend of mine.
Initially, I had trepidation. My mother was confused. Surely I couldn’t be going out like this, but as I looked at my drab, uncomfortable jeans that I always wear. Vestments of the normality, I decided ‘no, I’m going to wear what I want, not what “I” want.’
Honestly, it was emancipating. I was in line for a burger and, no word of a lie, a woman approached me and congratulated my zest for life. Me was thrilled to see someone with such abandon, flouting the crushing stigma of appearing “weird”.
I was touched, and as I opened my eyes a little more, I saw people quaintly smiling out of the corner of my eyes. Walking home, a young boy stopped in the street and marveled, agog.
I’m glad I wore these pants, and so are the people that saw me.