parli pants

Circumstances at work today led to my presence required at Parliament, pronto. Unfortunately, Parliament rules dictate that jeans are unacceptable. I was wearing jeans. This led to a rather panicked shopping expedition, in an area where shopping is negligible. I resorted to running to Giordano (like a Gap from the cargos and pocket tees days) hoping to scoop something cheap, basic, non-offensive to either me or the Parliament officers.

My buy ended up nowhere near cheap (S$59! Daylight robbery!), just barely basic, and vaguely offensive to me. It was about two inches too short (trouser dilemmas abound when you're a tall girl in an Asian city, only Zara and Mango never fail me when it comes to trouser lengths), it was one size too small (but nothing else in a 2km radius was my size. Sizing dilemmas abound when you're a US size 8 in an Asian city full of diminutive women), and it was the sort of black fabric that is fatally attracted to lint. Horror. But when you're running late and have NO choice, you live with it. So I handed over my fifty-sodding-nine dollars and stomped off.

(Note: They were a skinny cut, so I guess they could pass as a cropped pant. But I didn't really have time to consider this.Maybe when I calm down in a few days, I'll consider this again.)

Just as well that I didn't try my luck with hoping they'll wave me in in my jeans - the Parliament officer at the front office eyeballed me and barked "Are those denim?" as she squinted at my trousers. In reply, I snapped (I try to be polite, but it doesn't always work out): "No, they're not." She glared at the tank tops I was wearing, layered one over the other, underneath my multipurpose dress-everything-up cardigan.

I thought to myself, if she bars me on account of my tank tops, I will take off my trousers and strangle her with it. Or hang myself in protest. Finally, she stopped glaring, hissed at me to pass her my ID, and handed me my visitors' pass. What an attitude. Maybe she didn't like my trousers either.


It's the first time my clothes have ever been an issue when it comes to work. I wasn't even this frantic when I had to show up at an black-tie gala type thing in my capris and flats. A sartorial adventure indeed.

I christened those black trousers "parli pants", and have left them at work as my designated "emergency trousers for denim-allergic occasions". They're not too bad, certainly I didn't look fabulous, but I didn't look horrible. Style-wise, it's just passable. Fit-wise, I'm neutral. Fabric-wise, I'm disgusted. Price-wise, I'm apoplectic, mainly because I didn't want to spend the money in the first place, and because I would have NEVER spent $59 on such bleah pants.

Comments

enc said…
That experience sounds draining. I wonder if your employer would reimburse you?
k said…
That is a tragic tale! I have had something similar happen and I was no less sick over it. I'm sorry for your loss of money on bad pants. At least you are "safe" for next time.
fashionaddict said…
k - Thanks for the tea and sympathy, I am at least now able to laugh about it.

enc - I considered it, but then I worry it would encourage the company to set "guidelines" on dress, and then I will never be able to wear jeans to work ever. Tragedy!

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