About Me

My photo
My husband tells me I am a makebate. So, what's wrong with that? I love to write. I have 2 great kids and 1 grandson. I'd love to say I am "retired" but really, who retires from life? Shoot me a question, comment, rant or rave. They are all welcome here. Love dogs, my family, and most of all, debate. Pro NRA, conservative and a right wing lady.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

"Giving up on life" - George Costanza style

Seinfeld was one of those shows that came along and just hit the nail on the head.  Every episode had something which the audience could relate to.  The close talker, the low talker, the high talker, the re-gifter, the "1 tuck, 1 no tuck",  the obligatory thank you wave, the picker, and Vandalay Industries.  Cosmo Kramer = the guy who managed to get long without any real, viable life skills, yet was popular, unpredictable and well, funny. ( I know some of these guys)   Elaine Benes = the girl who was slightly insecure about herself and could not see that she was actually talented, smart and pretty.  Jerry Seinfeld = a smart ass beyond belief, and model for the puffy pirate shirt and Fusili Jerry (one in a million shot..one in a million)  Then there was George.  Poor old George, who had the personality of a slightly dried out slug.  I believe some of his greatest accomplishments to be the scoring a job with the NY Yankees, pulling off the profession of  a marine biologist (the sea was angry that day, my friends) and fashionista aficionado of the popular SWEAT PANTS!

Jerry: Again with the sweatpants?
George: What? I'm comfortable.
Jerry: You know the message you're sending out to the world with these sweatpants? You're telling the world: "I give up. I can't compete in normal society. I'm miserable, so I might as well be comfortable."

With menopause seems to come the fashion statement of sweat pants.  They were once worn only for doing your Jack LaLane exercises.  Invented in France in the 1920 by LeCoq Sportif, France can lay claim to the fashion faux pas.  France = the people who eat snails, tend to be on the rude side and who, to their credit created the Croissant. 

Unfortunately for menopausal women, the sweat pants have more of a statement that resonates the misery of their lives.  Put on a nice t-shirt, and you are ready for the grocery store, apply some make-up and you can get away with a trip to the mall, throw an over sized sweatshirt or hoodie on, and well you can either crawl into bed or walk the dog.  The options are endless.  You will not catch the Housewives of Atlanta, Washington D.C., New York, Jersey or Orange County wearing the classic sweat pant.  Of course, not all Housewives actually look like those being falsely portrayed on Bravo's popular series.  Then again, not all housewives have the slim, trim figures of those housewives either.  Liposuction, nip and tuck, Botox and the rest are something of a vain notion, most likely invented by men who were growing weary of looking at their worn out wives.

Being raised a Catholic, and attending Catholic Schools where a uniform was the mainstay, I must admit that the sweat pant does have a certain element of appeal.  No more getting up every morning and exclaiming "What am I going to wear?".  Sweatpants are the answer.  And on the days I become a professional in the healthcare field, scrubs are the solution to my fashion dilemma.  Everyone looks the same, there is no push to be the best dressed nurse or Emt. There is no contest. 

Now Nike and other sporting clothes outlets have taken sweat pants to a whole new level.  Of course, if I had the figure of one of the many famous housewives, I'd being a little more excited about sweatpants.  But, until my butt is smaller, or my thighs are firmer or my baby belly (yes, my children are almost 30) trims down, I guess I will settle with the George Costanza point of view.

No comments:

Post a Comment