Real Talk; Level Yoga Pants

Let’s talk yoga pants. Better yet, how about leggings. Black ones. Brown ones. Patterned ones. Colored ones. Jeggings. *shutters*

I mean right? Where did they even come from? A few years ago there was no such thing as yoga pants, and then all of the sudden BAM!; they took the world by storm. Literally, I think they came out of nowhere; a stretchy, black creature sent straight from the dark abyss to blind side us all with their epic comfort but horrible see-through-in-the-rear, camel-toe-producing, cellulite-highlighting, powers. Why oh why is something so perfectly cozy also the most unflattering pair of pants you will ever wear?

“They’re not unflattering on me!” You say. Oh yes Hunnie…Yes they are.

‘Cause, let’s be honest. Unless you’re a size zero with slim thighs, that ever elusive thigh gap, smooth skin without a hint of cellulite, and a perfectly perky rear end, then yes, they are unflattering on you. As if the uber revealing, semi-shiny fabric didn’t already make your thighs look bigger than they really are, the painted on look never did wonders for your cellulite either; trust me. (And don’t even get me started on why overweight  women wearing leggings seem to always find a reason to bend over in front of me so that the already thin fabric is stretched to a breaking point, thus giving me a lovely view of their thong and white, white butt.)

When did we turn into such a lazy society that the perpetual I-just-came-from-the-gym look became a “style”?  Why is it so hard for women to throw on a pair of jeans? Have we stooped so low that glorified pajamas are now acceptable wear to restaurants and around town? Ladies, where is your pride? Where is your desire to leave something to the imagination? Where is the need to be beautiful, sexy, and attractive? Where are your apple bottom jeans for Pete’s sake?!

At home. In the closet. Neatly folded with deep creases from months of unuse. 


Mine are too.

But I just had a baby 3 and a half weeks ago, so don’t judge me.

I said don’t judge me.

I’m not getting addicted.

I’m not.

I’m only wearing yoga pants cause I’m a little chubby right now.

It won’t become a habit.


Pinky Promise.

Cross my heart.

Ooooooo, I can’t go any further than that.

Yoga pants man….They’re going to be the death of my fashion sense.

With Love,


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