I had never been on board the leggings as pants train. It started pretty young, when leggings first resurfaced. My mother (who had been around for the first legging adventure) would tut tut about how no one wore shirts that covered their butts, and how you could see their underwear! In the beginning, this was certainly true. Leggings were initially made from the same material as tights so they were frequently see through, and not meant for #pantslife.
But as more women wore them as pants, the industry followed. Leggings quickly became an athleisure staple – they were stretchy, bendable, and didn’t fall down like classic workout pants. They were also a lot more flattering than sweats of the past, and made workouts like yoga, pilates, and running easier than other athleisure could. The problem: athletic leggings looked just that. Athletic. They were thicker, sure, to solve the problems that come with a lot of bending, stretching, and wear and tear, but they weren’t necessarily cute. And cute leggings, like much else that is cute, were still not good enough.
So I staunchly held out on the “leggings can’t be pants” hill, convinced I would die on it. For many, many years, I hoped along with articles in fashion magazines and op-ed pieces alike, that the legging trend would die. Even as I started wearing them more with outfits (always like tights with a skirt or shorts over them) and they grew to be a staple in my own wardrobe, I continued to tut tut those who wore them as pants.
The realization was a slow one – I’ve always been stubborn about my fashion choices – but it came in drips. I would read an article here and there, extolling the brilliance of leggings as pants. I started to recognize the problems with telling women what they can and can’t wear, especially in the face of men being allowed pretty much whatever. I realized that I honestly envied women who were out at Target or casually walking through the airport in the comfortable stretchy fabrics of leggings alone, without the extra constraints of a skirt or dress.
The big turn came one busy Saturday filled with social engagements. Our first event was mostly walking around so I’d worn a beautiful skirt that fits perfect when standing, but quickly grows uncomfortable while sitting since it has an unforgiving waistband. When we got home, and prepared for our next activity (board games – sitting only) I realized I didn’t want to fully change clothes. So I wrestled and wrought in my mind, looking in the mirror and bending over and asking my husband “can you see my underwear” and finally laid on the bed extolling my fears to my helpless lover.
“I can’t just wear them as pants, can I? I don’t understand why it’s fine if other people do it, but I just can’t!”
Me, lying on the bed, wallowing
Oliver, being the man that he is, quickly assessed the root of my fears. We discussed how initially they were meant to be tights, but they’ve evolved from that. And if the leggings themselves can evolve, can’t my opinion of them, and my use for them? So, bravely, for games that evening I wore my leggings as pants for the first time. Admittedly in the comfort of my own home, among friends who I knew wouldn’t care (or likely wouldn’t notice), but you’ve got to start somewhere, right?
Now that you have the background – we can get to the heart of the issue. Should leggings be worn as pants? And I have to say, yes. Not only are the standards in the industry different (now even cheap Amazon or Old Navy leggings call out “full coverage” and “thick, not see through fabric”). Not to mention the comfort: quality leggings that fit right are second to none on comfort levels. In bleak winter mornings, I’m much more liable to reach for a pair of cozy leggings than any of my jeans. Throughout the day I find my whole body is more comfortable wearing the stretch fabric instead of unforgiving denim, plus I’m not nearly as sweaty or smelly or chafed…
That’s the thing about leggings – they’re just so damn functional.
They are also extremely accessible: now that they are in the lexicon of style for good, there are plenty of cute, reliable options out there for anyone, on any budget. I’m even seeing more and more curvy and larger sizes from regular brands, and brands that cater to larger sizing jumping into the market.
Leggings are workhorses without being inconvenient. They are breathable, they are soft, and they are warm. They allow freedom of movement while creating a cute silhouette that is almost ubiquitously flattering.
Naysayers be naysaying, but I’m going to work on getting over my own fears and hangups because at the end of the day, they make me feel better, and isn’t that what fashion is all about?
Curly.Curvy.Candid 