Elasticated.
Jeans.
All the comfort and flexibility of jogging bottoms but
without the slightly chavvy connotations that going out somewhere wearing them
would invite. Because to the untrained eye they look exactly like jeans.
Because they are jeans.
Elasticated ones. They’re basically clown pants. And they’re
bloody brilliant.
They should make them for everyone. Not just pregnant women,
but all women. All men too. Think about it; no more belts, zips or awkward
buttons, no more uncomfortable fullness when you’re out for dinner as the
trousers will just expand as your stomach does, no more fannying about at
urinals either as you can just whip the whole shebang down and have a P1 pee.*
[And because they are jeans you avoid the awkwardness that
you get with jogging bottoms; that being that your package never bloody sits
still and is basically on display for all to gawp at. For men, obviously. I
don’t think women have that problem.]
And when middle age hits and my waistline no doubt expands
further, I’ll not have to buy new trousers. Oh no! Buying new trousers is for
mugs. My elasticated jeans will simply grow as I do. They’ll always
fit perfectly. So cast off your belts, my friends. Embrace the joyous invention
of stretchy slacks! The pleasure of pliable pantaloons! The brilliance of bendy
britches! The majesty of malleable…uh…I can’t think of a synonym for trousers
that starts with M.
Waist sizes will become a thing of the past. We’ll no longer
have to worry about what size we are in my flexible vision of the future. We
can just all get fat and not care at all about weight, and our trousers will
simply keep up with our ever increasing guts.
Although…
This is beginning
to sound like the start of our slow decline into the humans from WALL-E;
rotund, immobile blobs incapable of movement.
Maybe we should just let the pregnant women keep their
stretchy trousers, eh?
Probably for the best.
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