Saturday, November 15, 2008

He thinks I'm kidding....yeah, right

Today Kman went to the store. He was looking for work pants. Specifically, Dickies. Because I told him to quit ruining his good jeans. So he looked. And then decided that Dickies fit like shit, and wouldn't work. So the salesman recommended Carhartts. And he was sold. He now owns a pair of fresh, crisp and black Carhartts. He can safely visit Montana and look like a man. Look like a city man, what with the black and all- not beige enough to fit in squarely in hometown. But otherwise, he can look like a city-folk native.

But the best part, the part that I save for last is that what he really wanted to buy was a pair of bib overalls. Oh yes, my friends. My husband decided that those were the finest pair of pants that he had ever worn. There is nothing to bind, and a handy place to put tools. Ah yes, he has truly given up. Truly and forever. I told him that bib overalls were for fat chicks back home when they couldn't close the waistbands on their pants any more. This can of course be handy if one is pregnant. But I saw it often in college. With the girls who ordered pizza a few too many times. Sweats or bibs. Lovely look, really, when combined with a frizzy permed pony tail and a loosely-fitting t shirt. Ah, good times.

So he has a goal. Bib overalls, or bust. I did suggest that he go for the ones with the little stripes, so he can play train conductor. Not just farmer. Or stoner- those little pockets are handy for all kinds of supplies, no?

2 comments:

kim wells said...

sometimes I'm bitter than my husband's uniform is basically a giant baggy sack he can adjust easily with velcro. And he never has to wear suits, or ties. And women are supposed to wear those evil heels (which I am brainwashed enough to think look cool). But then I get a really cute suit and have fun wearing it and I get over it.

But it's still not fair. :)

slyboots2 said...

Heels? Feh. Not if I can help it- don't have the back for them anymore. But the whole dressing for success thing just doesn't do it for me. Not anymore. I am not a "professional" in that sense of the word. But I have been one, and I sympathize. It was a lovely day when the banker togs went to Goodwill.