Turning Forty-Two Tuesday: Pants Are Not Always Bullshit*

You know you've lost any fashion cred you may have had when you own something called, "formal yoga pants". Well, technically, they are the Starfish pants from Lands End. (I linked to them because I love them and recommend them even though I get no credit/money/love for doing so). Anyway, I was talking to my wonderful friend Lisa the other day and explaining why I haven't been to book club in forever. 

Me: Sometimes I just don't want to get out of my yoga pants and go out in public.

Lisa: I just wear my yoga pants. 

Me: Oh, I'm not talking about my good yoga pants, I'm talking about. . .

Lisa: The ones with the holes in them?

As the conversation continued, I realized that I have 2 levels of yoga pants: holey and formal. "Formal" meaning I wear them out in public and I work out in them and may have been out to dinner in them. The kind I would totally wear to book club, if Hot Guy didn't always seem to have rehearsal or something happening on book club nights. But it's the holey ones, the ones I would have turned into rags a few years ago, that are my favorites. 

I have not worn them in public yet, but I fear it might happen if all of my formal yoga pants are in the laundry and I have to run to the grocery store at 10pm because I've forgotten to make the brownies for the following day's class party. 

At almost forty-two, I know I'm not going to embrace lounging in jeans or other attire that is appropriate in public. Frankly, the world is pretty fortunate that I consistently wear a bra and don't run around in my flannel pajama bottoms. So either I'm going to have to patch the holey yoga pants, or buy more Starfish pants. 

Are patched yoga pants really any better than pajama bottoms, though? 

*With apologies to Aunt Becky, who might disagree.