By Sheryl Kayne

I love kids, I have two of my own, but I hate when I see their pants falling down. Teens and preteens are everywhere, wearing their long, over-sized trousers precariously perched around the groin area with an inch or two of underwear band showing.

I think the trend for baggy, posterior exposure began as a hip hop trend and made its way into the rest of the country. Just yesterday two middle-aged men came to my house, a furniture delivery man and a plumber. They had very different jobs but they both had extremely unattractive exterior revelations. Somehow I didn’t get the feeling that either of them was out to make a fashion statement.

I don’t know how these weird fads get started. I didn’t think women were into the baggy pants. Instead they started exposing the midriff. It was kind of strange to watch that as many males’ drawers dropped lower and lower, the females’ shirts got shorter, briefer and much smaller. Sometimes when I’m out shopping I’ll see a shirt that I swear would be more apt to fit a Chihuahua than a person.

I hadn’t personally been tempted by either the short shirt or the baggy pants until yesterday. Shopping with my daughter, she’s a size 2 and can wear anything but she selects very conservative and modest clothes due to her religious choices. Browsing around behind her, I watched her pull out an interesting blue pinstriped material.

“Shoot, I thought this was a skirt,” she turned to me. “But it’s pants. You should try these; it will be cute on you.”

The tables have turned since the day when I’d find things for her and she valued my opinion. I took a look at the selection. Nice cotton material, nice color, but something about the wide baggy bottoms reminded me of preadolescents and skateboards.

“I don’t think so,” I put them back on the rack.

She pulled them back out. “Really, Mom, they are $10 and you are going to love them.” I put them on. They were long, wide, baggy pants that didn’t reach my belly button and exposed my nylon underwear. My belly kind of stuck out over the pants.

At the same time I realized it was kind of nice not to have any tightness around my waist or stomach. I started walking around and they didn’t fall off, but they also didn’t move around. They were just there. It was like wearing clothes that didn’t matter and weren’t really there, yet I was dressed. I liked the cuffs on the bottom and the looseness of the fit.

“I could only wear these with big, long T-shirts,” I said to my daughter. “It won’t exactly be a slenderizing look.”

“Who cares?” she asked.

I bought them, figuring I’d wear them around the house for comfort. But I have to admit, I’ve worn them out and about, with a few different tops that cover up my hidden indiscretions. I can’t imagine my mother ever wearing anything quite so casual, she is always so put together and coordinated. I look kind of hip hop sporting my long square shorts with cuffs and hear myself saying, “Whad up?” and “Word” as I pass by teens or preadolescents wearing baggy drawers.

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