I Like Big PANTS and I Cannot Lie

I Like Big PANTS and I Cannot Lie




It took all my energy not to reply with a big Cheshire Cat smile and the caption, ‘YES PLEASE!!!!!!!’ when my friend sent me this snap chat because, the truth is, I just LOVE pants like these. A wee frill, blue flowers, come up to the belly button…what’s not to like?

A lot, apparently.

I get slagged off relentlessly for my choice in pants. We’ve got a washing pulley in our kitchen and the other day my flat mate warned me that I better be careful when I hang them up because if they were to fall down, they could suffocate someone.

Ha. Ha.

It’s also embarrassing that I’m twenty years old and the only sexy pants I own are the ones my Mum buys for me.

“Well, they’re better than those empty sacks of potatoes you usually wear!” 

But those suffocating empty sacks of potatoes are:

1) THEE comfiest pants I’ve ever worn

2) THEE perfect size for tummy tuckage

3) THEE hottest of the hot (not going to lie, could be alone with this view)

And I only learned of their brilliance two years ago and it was all because of a mistake. ‘Twas the summer before my first year at University and thinking that I wouldn’t wash my clothes as often as at home, I decided to go to Primark and stock up. Not really caring what I got, I picked up two packs of basic, black, Age 18 pants and bought them. It wasn’t until I opened them, on that first week in Halls, that I realised when you pass the age of 10, you can no longer buy clothes where their size matches your age and so there I was, a size 8, with size 18 pants.


And to be honest, I’ve never looked back.

*Cough* Except that time in the gym to make sure that my t-shirt (which honestly looked bigger on the hanger) covered them up. 





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