Nonfunctional In A Modern World
Jan. 10th, 2006 07:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormI've been meaning to got more pants for work for quite some time, but I've been putting it off for reasons soon to be explained. So, today, I finally stopped in at Mountain Equipment Coop (with the amusingly named mec.ca wobstie. Am I the only one who gets that?).
So, because I need to look semi-professional at work, I can't go the army surplus route, and for practical reasons I can't go the long-skirt route. Because of the professional thing, as well as the durability factor (I spend a lot of time on my knees), most hemp is right out, and since I have no desire to contribute unnecessarily to the desertification of my homeland, conventionally grown cotton is right out (that stuff is nasty). I'm not into froofy hippie-style pants, which pretty much leaves MEC as the known source for heavyweight organic cotton hiking/walking pants, which work well. Plus they have an ethical purchasing policy, so my conscience can be at rest there too.
Unfortunately, I have unlearned my big-store skills since grade nine, when I hung out in shopping malls. I'm fine in the dubious hygene of a pile'o'stuff on a nude beach, slipping bits over your head to see if they fit and calling out, 'how much'? I can deal with smaller thrift stores and open-air booths made from celtic tye-dyed blankets. I was dead lost in this big, florescent-lit store divided by activity and gender (cycling section has both women's and men's pants, while the women's section has ski pants and walking pants. What?). Plus, after running down a clerk, I discovered that it was inventory-before-restocking time.
Add this to the fact that, in women's *or* men's pants, I take the smallest size that they manufacture, *and* that I'm not particularly small (we're talking 28-30" waistband here, in a sports store where one might expect a bunch of skinny people, among others), and one imagine that there was nothing really purchasable, which is sad and kinda mind-blowing. Some of the stuff there was really cool. I'm not at the bottom of humanity's (or even my city's) size curve. Ow, my brain.
I keep vowing to find myself a tailor. I really need to just go ahead and do it. It'll be better for my sanity, better for my conscience, better for my free time... damn.
That or I need to convince someone to sell my kind of pants on Wreck Beach, I guess.
So, because I need to look semi-professional at work, I can't go the army surplus route, and for practical reasons I can't go the long-skirt route. Because of the professional thing, as well as the durability factor (I spend a lot of time on my knees), most hemp is right out, and since I have no desire to contribute unnecessarily to the desertification of my homeland, conventionally grown cotton is right out (that stuff is nasty). I'm not into froofy hippie-style pants, which pretty much leaves MEC as the known source for heavyweight organic cotton hiking/walking pants, which work well. Plus they have an ethical purchasing policy, so my conscience can be at rest there too.
Unfortunately, I have unlearned my big-store skills since grade nine, when I hung out in shopping malls. I'm fine in the dubious hygene of a pile'o'stuff on a nude beach, slipping bits over your head to see if they fit and calling out, 'how much'? I can deal with smaller thrift stores and open-air booths made from celtic tye-dyed blankets. I was dead lost in this big, florescent-lit store divided by activity and gender (cycling section has both women's and men's pants, while the women's section has ski pants and walking pants. What?). Plus, after running down a clerk, I discovered that it was inventory-before-restocking time.
Add this to the fact that, in women's *or* men's pants, I take the smallest size that they manufacture, *and* that I'm not particularly small (we're talking 28-30" waistband here, in a sports store where one might expect a bunch of skinny people, among others), and one imagine that there was nothing really purchasable, which is sad and kinda mind-blowing. Some of the stuff there was really cool. I'm not at the bottom of humanity's (or even my city's) size curve. Ow, my brain.
I keep vowing to find myself a tailor. I really need to just go ahead and do it. It'll be better for my sanity, better for my conscience, better for my free time... damn.
That or I need to convince someone to sell my kind of pants on Wreck Beach, I guess.
