I have this thing about work out gear & comfort clothing.
I don’t normally get all giddy over casual wear because workout gear equals sweet & I hate sweating. I also hate Lycra, camel toes, wedgies, & pit stains. (I think we can all agree that those are incredibly off-putting, along with sketchy Guido men that troll the gym watching girls on treadmills.) My traditional sweat suit of choice includes one of Doug’s oversized tshirts from college that has a beer stain in the left corner & a pair of ratty old cheerleading shorts from 1996 that barely cover my left ass cheek.
It’s pretty much the opposite of sexy, attractive, & feminine.
I like to think that one of the reasons Jockey puts up with my madness is because they feel pity for the rest of humanity when I go running, so they’ve taken me on as a charity case to outfit for getting in shape.
A few months ago, lovely Jockey boxes adorned my front stoop & the Jockey Sport collection came waltzing into my life. I ADORE IT. I adore it on the kind of level where I’m not sure my husband remembers what I look like in a pair of jeans because the Modern Fit are my go-to pants on the weekends. I’m not even sure where my North Face fleece is these days because I wear my Zip Front Jacket any time there’s a chill in the air (it’s light, warm, & toddler-stain resistant which makes it the greatest piece of clothing in my wardrobe).
As you can see, it’s perfect for vegging out at the end of the day. I run upstairs, rip off my hosiery & shapewear & slip into a tank top & long Modern Fit pants.
When I first started taking Zumba classes a few weeks ago, I attempted to dance off my wobbly bits wearing a ratty tshirt & bagging sweatpants. I wanted to hide my figure but I realized after one class that I felt better about myself in front of the mirror wearing tighter crop pants. I didn’t look quite so…large. I could move more comfortably & I could actually see my hips shaking, which lent a sexy vibe that I haven’t felt since giving birth spread-eagle in a hospital bed.
Which led to the greatest self-realization since I took bows out of my hair in the fourth grade - comfortable doesn’t mean frump. I don’t have to look like a homeless soccer mom just because I’m exhausted at the end of the day. I don’t have to look like a bag lady at Zumba just because I have sweat pouring out of every crevice in my body. I can still shake my hips. I can still look cute after work while rolling around on the floor with my boys. There is such as flattering workout gear & by God, it’s time I embraced it.
p.s. they also come in longs. & the angels sang HALLELUJAH!!!