Party In My Pants

Must have these pants or a fab knock-off of 'em. Even if that means my arse turns lunar each time I have them on.

You see my clothing choices run two ways. There's the list in my head of clothes I'd give my granny for. Jersey maxis, tailored shorts, cute little fauna-print dresses and Peter Pan collars. Naturally therefore, if you're at all familiar with my world, none of these suit me even slightly. Originally I'm a pear shape. Currently I'm the shape of conjoined pears doing a great The Hulk. So instead of sitting around crying about it, I eat deep fried potatoes and go buy safe, characterless clothes that won't draw too much attention.

I want to slowly edge out of the dowdiness, one unthreatening yet unusual (for me) separate at a time. These pants combine my love for comfortable, slouchy silhouettes while adding structure and a bit of um...style even?...without too much choo-choo peh-peh.

I'm raising my mango lassi to change.