Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Reluctant Exhibitionist

I have a semi-secret. Val is an exhibitionist.

That hasn't always been the case. It's a recent affectation. And not a conscious decision. I am, in fact, a reluctant exhibitionist. I try to keep my peccadillo out of the public domain. Well, except for blogging about it. But seriously, how many people could possibly be reading this? Unless there are a lot of freaky folks who consult their BFF, Google, in search of exhibitionists.

It is not my intention to seek out an audience and wow them with glimpses of my flesh. Sometimes, stuff just happens. The whole issue was actually initiated by accident, in the kitchen, with a drawer knob. No need to play a whole came of Clue for this culprit.

I have a favorite pair of special at-home relaxation pants that I slip into when I am not entertaining guests. They are capri in nature, gray, with a wide, two-tone lavender stripe down the outer leg area. They can be seen in full-figured women's catalogs under exercise wear. They are quite comfortable, and the color scheme really sets off my black men's socks and red Crocs. I'm sure I'm a topic of conversation amongst home-delivery drivers and air conditioner repairmen throughout the county. Even more so lately.

I am a fairly tall woman. Not petite. No gymnast bone structure here. I can reach the top cabinet shelves without a stepstool. And it's the dastardly cabinets that have made me an exhibitionist. Not so much the upper echelon cabinets as their drawers. Many's the time I have walked through my kitchen, minding my own business, gathering items for lunch-packing, when I have been brought up short by an unwelcome knob protruding into my personal space. Stopping me in my tracks. Hooking the pocket of my work and town pants. Requiring me to back up and unhitch.

My special pants have no pockets. But they have worn thin at the side pocket area. That's because I wear no chef's apron. Are you kidding me? I am not a chef! I merely warm up food in the microwave, or heat it in the oven. According to Hick. So when I wash my hands at the kitchen sink, I sometimes blot them on my pants sides. Saves a paper towel. It's not like I could hang a kitchen towel from those grabby drawer knobs.

And here we are again at the root of the problem. Those confounded drawer knobs. They snare the stitching between my two lavender stripes. After repeated molestings, my stripes have been stripped. A small hole appeared first. A small hole in my side-pants attracted those voracious drawer knobs like beef jerky attracts Sasquatch. It's not like I was messin' with the drawer knobs. I wasn't pranking them like Ashton Kutcher in a trucker cap. I wasn't teasing them like a laser light in front of a kitten. I wasn't enticing them like Sirens singing to sailors along a rocky shoreline. Those drawer knobs were attracted to my special pants like iron shavings are attracted to the red plastic wand in a Wooly Willy game.

After repeated gropings, the small hole was stretched into gargantuan proportions. I try to cover the gaping pants-wound with the side of my big shirt. But sometimes, an unsuspecting observer becomes privy to more of Val's private hip-skin than anyone needs to see. I try to soften the shock to their system by wearing undergarments the color of the stripes or the pants proper. I have a new pair of special at-home relaxation pants on order.

I apologize for the inconvenience


  1. "Relaxation" pants are almost always unattractive in some way. Public pants are almost always a bit uncomfortable, due to their material or their fit.

    I have a pair of gray sweat pants that make up part of my "lounging" outfit. I switch those up with a pair of striped PJ bottoms. An old T-shirt completes the ensemble.

    My husband calls these outfits my "sexy clothes" but he always says it with a raised eyebrow.

    I figure that young delivery/repair men should see what middleaged women REALLY look like, so when these guys are older, they will not be too shocked.

    Call it our version of public service...

  2. You have no idea how happy I was to read this. Every woman needs to have "special at-home relaxation pants," or SAHRPs. Personally, I have short SAHRPs for summer (have them on now) and long ones for winter. I reluctantly parted with my last summer ones after they wore two large holes in the buttocks. And I wasn't even accosted by drawer knobs.

  3. Val, I "almost" could've written this, which is all the more weird since you are tall and I am short. I am CONSTANTLY getting hooked on drawer handles in my kitchen! They're just the right height that as I pass by, minding my own business just as you do, one will jump out and get hooked in one of the pockets. It's always quite a shock to be jerked back so violently and I've almost spilled my plate before! I'm thrilled to know I'm not alone in this....another one of my klutzy incidents that I'd planned to include in my post about being a klutz! Thank You, thank you, m'dear! (Oh, and I also have sloppy, around-the-house clothes.)

  4. My wife has clothes she wears around the house that are on their way to becoming lint.

  5. Duct tape. It holds the universe AND much loved clothing together. This should solve the gap problem unless the tape becomes attracted to your own personal drawers like drawer knobs are attracted to special pants.

    Wait! Beef jerky attracts Sasquatch? That explains a lot. (making a mental note to take jerky off the camping menu)

  6. Sioux,
    That's harsh. To make youngsters face reality at such a tender age. After these comments, I am envisioning a rich pageant of middle-aged ladies parading about in their SAHRPs. Unfortunately, it replaced the former pageant of cabana boys proffering boat drinks.

    Dang! TWO pairs of SAHRPs, and you STILL wore out the buttocks? You really swear by that "butt in chair" philosophy!

    The dastardly drawer knobs...they're like the eyes of a portrait in an old English mansion. They adapt to the height and position of the victim.

    You should be proud that she's so thrifty. And environmentally friendly.

    How could I forget DUCT TAPE? It would match my color scheme. And let's not forget, Cheryl Strayed proved that you can make a pair of shoes out of it. A nice accessory.

    I only know that beef jerky attracts Sasquatch because of those "messin' with Sasquatch" commercials for Jack Links Beef Jerky.

  7. Since everyone has been so forthcoming about their relaxed fit pants ....... my worn thin area is at the top of my inner thighs. My mother (who was very trim and thin her entire life and loved to point out the physical faults of others) called this "chewing a hole with your crotch". You know already, don't you? I designed a special triangle of reinforcement fabric and apply it to my fave pants with a flat zigzag stitch. Lots of trial and error went into this.

  8. Kathy,
    Thank you for enlightening me on "chewing a hole in your crotch." That was a little fact of which I was happily unaware until thirty seconds ago. I do, however, know the meaning of "her butt's having lunch." I learned it during a faculty meeting in my third year of teaching, from a naughty south St. Louis gal. Much to the dismay of the rest of the teachers at our library table.