Wide Legged Bandit

Just under two years ago I started a job at a new company, and though at first it seemed like a far reach from my personal style, I quickly began to drink the Koolaid, or even chug some might say. You see, my personal style BEFORE my new job was mostly all black and whatever sneaker I felt like wearing. Which is how I showed up to my new job the first few weeks and ended up sticking out like a sore thumb. The first few weeks went by and I started building up my new collection of clothing, but nothing changed my life like my first pair of wide legged pants. The Koolaid went STRAIGHT to my head and boy did I look damn good. Who knew the perfect outfit silhouette for someone who was short with a thin waist and large booty was wide legged pants and a crop top?! The fashion gods had spoken and I had found my new signature look (little did I know problems would arise when it was raining, snowing and/or walking fast was required).

It was December, my birthday weekend in fact, and I decided to debut my newest WLP (wide legged pant, mom). This was also the day I chose to wear my lieutenant hat (which everyone loved except my BF). Let me paint the picture, because even though I looked FAB, I apparently didn’t take an outfit of the day photo. Lieutenant hat, crop top, black floral printed WLP, cow boy boots, pink fuzzy jacket, purse, one overnight bag and two shopping bags. To summarize, very fashionable but also very…noticeable, I have to say. So I left my apartment and was headed home for the weekend (hence the bags) and was en route to catch the streetcar, but to get to the streetcar I have to cross a VERY large and busy intersection. I forgot to press the pedestrian walk button, but the light was green, so I knew I had about 15 seconds to cross the street and I had a train to catch so I HAD to go. I’m walking along, thinking to myself, wow people must be thinking what a cool outfit I have on and also why does she look like a crazy bag lady? The light turned from green to yellow and I was almost at the end of the cross walk when it happened. Instead of stepping through the air onto the pavement, I stepped through my WLP and it all came tumbling down, and by all I mean ME. If I were any closer to the curb I would have lost a tooth. I was on the ground for about 0.1 seconds before I bounded up onto the curb and continue limp/speed walking to the streetcar stop. If the drivers waiting at the light were blinking they would have missed my kiss with the ground I was so quick. Thankfully, my hands took the brunt of my fall, scrapping both my palms and definitely hurting my knees. Nothing had fallen out of my bags and boy was I heavy breathing when I arrived at the train. After calming down and waiting for my body to stop sweating, I decided to check the damage. A few scrapes on my palm, thank god NO holes in my WLP, and when I went to check my knee I had to actually PEEL my pant leg away from it as the gash on my knee had adhered to my pant leg. But again, miraculously, no holes in the pants.

What have I learned from this incident you ask? Did I burn all of my WLP, am I a skinny jean only girl now? The answer is: I shrunk all my WLP on purpose so they would be short enough to walk in.

Below, a montage of my Best Of’s WLP Edition

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