A parcel addressed to my daughter was delivered yesterday, marked ‘Fragile’. She told me it was almost certainly a Christmas present for me which had been delayed and I could open it.
Inside were a pair of sarouel trousers. I was intrigued – sarouel was not a word I knew. I quickly tried them on. Bizarre! The crotch was incredibly low. I am short-waisted at the best of times, but this was just weird. Much hilarity and perplexity – were they badly made, or was this a hint that my stomach, after Christmas excesses, was enormous and needed that extra space? But hang on, the waist band was normal size.
I resorted to Mr Google and discovered that these were a form of harem pants. If I put my hands in the pockets and stood in the same pose as the on-screen model, I could emulate the style reasonably well (despite the Christmas gut). And they are comfortable, so I will keep them for the sofa lounging purpose for which I had requested new trews. Many thanks, m’dear. xx
However, I think I can get far more out of these than comfy TV-watching evenings. They have Massive Gusset Capacity – I could secrete any number of snacks in them, or indeed launch a shop-lifting career (if brave enough to leave the house in them, I suppose). I can pull them up to my boobs (if I had proper boobs it would probably even be possible to tuck them in, but mine are still too pert small to do that haha) and with a stripy top could pass for Marcel Marceau and do a bit of mime.
But for now, pulling the crotch down, more as intended I think, I am effecting a brazen swagger each time I walk past the hall mirror. This alternates between looking faintly amusing and being out-and-out DUCK WALKING! Keeps me out of mischief – and indoors! – I suppose.
PS. I have no idea why they were supposed to be fragile. Perhaps it was just a warning to open with care to avoid sartorial disaster.