Last night I went to Topshop and bought some pants that could probably accurately be described as jeggings. Or maybe they are more like peggings (pants leggings) or treggings (trouser leggings) since they don’t seem to involve any denim. What they do involve is a stretchy, cottony houndstooth and a flocked velvet damask pattern. The wallpapery print reminds me of 17th century France, a period not typically associated with spandex pants. Fashion is all about contrasts.
My buying experience was different than that of most of my friends. They often buy jeggings, peggings or treggings and say they thought they were buying real trousers, or claim that they’re actually just really stretchy trousers. It’s just like, “guys, I don’t even know how this happened! And since I threw out the receipt, might as well them ironically!” Well I am here to inform you that jeggings — or peggings or treggings, whatever, same difference — are nothing to be ashamed about.
I bought my own jeggings with full knowledge of what I was doing. Besides this great print, they also had a price tag of $60. I told myself most Lululemon leggings retail for well above $60, though I’m not sure why because I still don’t really know what exactly yoga is. But I just checked on the internet and they retail for a full $22 more. That’s just for legging leggings, and probably see-through ones at that. So I knew I was getting a bargain.
Selling point #2: Jeggings are also the mullet of pants: party up front, business when you’re standing a little further back. And mullets are edgy in a Rihanna-#GhettoGoth way.
But now you might be thinking, why? Why would a woman not just want to wear actual jeans? Don’t get me wrong, I love the look of jeans. I love them ripped and won in, I love them high-waisted like Kate Moss’ in the ‘90s Calvin Klein ads, and I like them in an assortment of colors and washes. But I also enjoy being comfortable, and there are many situations where jeans just don’t cut the mustard.
The main situation is when you are indoors. I am allergic to wearing jeans in my own home. I will start to undo my jeans buttons as soon as I’m inside my own apartment building, and continue undoing them as I walk up the stairs. By the time I’m inside and walking into my room I’m probably already doing a little hop-dance and pulling them down around my ankles, maybe pausing for a second when I bump into my new male roommate who I keep forgetting lives with me now. For five seconds I might feel weird, then I will put on the pair of threadbare leggings I bought from the Australian version of Rainbow six years ago, and everything will become right with the world.
So why not strive to find a balance between jeans and leggings? Why can’t the two live together as romantic partners who might sometimes squabble over cash but know that each makes the other better? Why can’t leggings enjoy the fresh outside air, and why can’t jeans enjoy hibernating on the couch with Netflix and your Seamless delivery? They can, guys. Like any relationship, there are rules, i.e. no fooling around with trashy faux pockets, and always go for a combination of length and thickness (JK but seriously, VPL is never cool.)
If you’re game to get off the benches and re-join the jeggings game, see below for five pairs that are in public-appropriate. Well, I think so anyway.
this is some kind of spaceship or something.