Again, this program is brought to you by the letters “S”, “H”, “I”, and “T”. Today is a day when we need to salute our shorts in the name of pants-past. I don’t know if you recall, but some time ago I had a favorite pair of pants that, for a brief second, betrayed me in a most egregious way. Well, my motto is to live let live and we soon became friends again; understanding that going commando would never again be an option. I wore them anywhere and everywhere and for an article that was over 6 years old, they held. The funny thing there was never a condition the pants were not suited for. I could wear them on a hike in 90 degree desert climates or trudging through five feet of snow up Mt. Will and be protected from any element. But I killed them.
Usually I have a washer and dryer. A washer to wash and a dryer to dry. But I also am one of those who irons the clothes with the dryer. Since I have moved I have not had the opportunity to get the appliances setup yet so I do it old school and break out the iron and board. That’s where we went wrong.
The traitor pants are made of magic material woven from the finest fairy goo and unicorn mane and most definitely not cotton. I, out of habit, had the iron set to linens. Right when I proceeded to iron them there was an acrid smell and I stated allowed, “Fuck! Smells like monkey burp!”. Then there was smoke.
I killed them. I killed them dead. The hole was instantaneous and not in a place that could be covered or patched. Ironically it was in the same place where I was betrayed by them to begin with. It’s a strange universe we live in folks. Strange indeed.
Casserole of Disaster 
I don’t remember those being your exact words. I do remember you blaming me for sending the mojo that sent your pants to their grave. Get over it. Buy a new pair of pants.
You made fun of them and now they’re dead. Are you happy now? 😉
Yes, actually. I so need to take you shopping.
RIP Pants.
Did you bury the pants with a flower for the smell, some licorice for when they are hungry, a photo for when they’re lonely, and a blanket for when they’re cold?
(Name that movie.)
“Can we dig it up to see the bones?”
Oh me….Poltergeist. One of my favorites.
Atta boy.
I know how it’s like to have a favorite article of clothing. Nothing matches the pleasure of having a comfortable pair of pants or a shirt that is soft and fits just right. I have several and have had several outfits that are my favorites. I was just thinking yesterday about a pair of cargo jeans that I wore in high school they were kind of like skater pants and I thought I looked so cool in them. I eventually wore the knees out but it was worth it. I have a picture that I drew beside my desk here of me in what was my favorite outfit my Senior year of high school. Those jeans and what was my favorite blue long sleeved shirt with stripes down the sleeves and across the front. The top and sleeves were a lighter blue and under the stripes across the chest (yes where my boobies are!) it was a darker shade of blue. You know what type of shirt I am talking about every guy has a shirt or has had a shirt like that.
One thing that makes you such a sweetheart is how quickly you forgive. You really have a big heart and that’s admirable.
Thanks Jodi. 😉
Dude that sucks about the pants. I have a pair that I *borrowed* (ok fine stole) out of my brother’s drawer along time ago. They have a double layer and the dryer seems to have shrunk them weird and my brother had ripped some holes in them but I still wear them. Matter of fact, in the winter they’re all I wear. I think they go with everything but every one else agrees. Whatever, I love them.
You keep it real and that, in itself is admirable. Thanks for your condolences. I will pass it on to my drawer. Their are a lot of sad t-shirts right now.
I meant every one else disagrees. sheesh.
I knew what ya meant. 😉
First Bea, then Michael, and now traitor pants? Bummer.
You MUST recycle them into something else. Iron them between waxed paper with some crayon shavings, thread some yarn through a hole punched in the top, and wear them around your neck.
Amy, this has been a rough couple of months.
I think I will do something with these pants besides burying them.
Sadness. I felt the same when my computer dies; it’s like I lost my best non-living friend.
I agree with the Amy’s idea of turning them into something else so the legacy lives on.
Dude, if this computer died I don’t know what I would do. Definitely not write a blog about it. I mean, how could I?
ohh, deh poor pants.
they had a good long life.
Your traitor pants lasted much longer than my most treasured jeans-
they only lasted three years.
Now that I think about it, I have traitor pants. The Fly falls down all the time so I’m constantly zipping them up. Very not couture.
Perhaps it is time for a new pair of traitor pants.
Perhaps ones with a new traitorous feature?
Like a bum flap?
yeah. Bumflaps fer bill!
I could rock a bumflap. I don’t have much of a bum though so I would imagine the embarrassment would be quiet amplified.
Now you have “traitor iron”.
Although, one could assume that the iron was actually a hero – fighting to save you from your Benedict Arnold pants. If one were to assume such things.
It is a traitor! I actually ironed on some of the traitor pants’ guts onto a new oxford white shirt. Bastarde’!
My version of ironing is a) buying clothes that don’t require ironing (nobody can see this ten dollar tank top under that cardigan, haha!) and b) soaking the occasional rumpled item with febreeze and stretching it across the laundry basket until it dries smooth. Feel free to use this with the next pair of pants, although you might need to explain why you smell like lavender, vanilla, ‘dreams of potterybarn’ or whatever scent is out that month.
Teach me. Teach me you clothes flattening methods, master. I have not the gift.
Maybe you could ‘build’ a snowman over the alleged iron hole (have we seen a picture?) and wear them with your reindeer sweater this Christmas. Ho(le), Ho(le), Ho(le).
Hmm…I have a few ideas, albeit dirty. But then again the Christmas sweater was not exactly tasteful. Thanks for the suggestion. Off to Joann’s Fabrics!
Yep, that goo twine, it evaporates via heat content, as I have also sadly learned. I require no less than a washer AND dryer at ALL times in order to live. The washer to washer and the dryer to iron. I hate bringing that lunk out. And what’s with the stupid constant refilling of water INTO the iron for steam? Steam? WTF. I’ve got a thing or two to say to steam. Member that time with you and I cooking Brussels Sprouts? Yeah, well I remember. Six words for steam ironing: I’d rather dry clean my clothes. I’ll take my “steamer” worthy clothing (weird, I’m not from Boston OR Cleveland, and for that matter, who wears clothes during a defecation fetish… well wait a minute, people do ALL sorts of things, who am I to say…) to the dry cleaner. Irons suck bools.
Great site btw.
j
Oh, this is tragic. Selfishly, I’m glad it happened though because I had never read the old traitor pants post before until now. I’ve got to say I haven’t laughed out loud at anything on the internet in a while now, so thank you for that. That made my day.
I feel your pain a little though. I have a pair in my closet right now that an old roommate gave me. He was an EMT and had to wear these standard issue black pants that had all these rad pockets on the sides for EMT stuff. He gave me an extra pair and I would wear them with everything. But, tragically I wore holes into all the pockets so if I want to wear them now I have to make sure I have no reason to carry my keys, wallet, phone or anything else. So until I decide to start carrying a purse, EMT pants are retired.
You should find a gal to stitch them holes in yer pockets.
I do that kind of thing, you know.
like…sew.
*snicker*