Being Geek Chic is a blog for stylish geeks, sophisticated nerds and people who enjoy the musings of a complete dork. Join us as we dream of driving the TARDIS, cuddle with our eBooks and test out an iPad sleeve. It's written by Elizabeth Giorgi and a team of brilliant lady nerds. Meet the team.
I want to tell you a story. It’s a rather useless story, but it’s a true one and I figure one (or many?) of you might be able to identify.
So I have been on a quest to find the perfect pair of black skinny pants. I had the perfect pair, but they’ve been worn so regularly and with such love that they are now a very sad muted, washed out, run down grey-brown-blegh color. This story wouldn’t even have to be told if I would have done the wise thing and bought two pairs when I got these delightful pants from Gilt a few years back, but this is the shit that happens when you shop in sporadic sprees of internet crazy.
After weeks of flash sale sites and internet super stores failing me terribly, I thought I’d hit up some of the brick and mortar shops to find a suitable replacement. I didn’t. I thought I did. But I didn’t. And why did I fail? Because as it turns out, the vast majority of black skinny pants are actually black skinny jeans for people with really swollen ankles.
Let me point out the difference:
I define “black skinny pants" as just that. Cotton pants made of solid black fabric that are cut like skinny jeans.
I define “black skinny jeans" as jeans that have been dyed black.
This is a critical point of differentiation. The former can be passably worn to work on any day of the week. The latter are reserved for Fridays only and as a result are quickly not worth the investment.
On top of my textile issues, I have also determined that I either A) have the skinniest ankles on planet earth or B) pants are now being made for people with very swollen ankles. I get it: the ankle bone protrudes ever so slightly from the leg, but does this mean I need a 70s bell bottom opening for my joints? No, no it does not.
Then I sauntered into one of the stores that I often imagined was amazing from my small town in Minnesota, until I actually went into one and realized that it’s not nearly as patriotic as the store’s “Classic Flag Tees" would have you believe. It’s just cheap. But I gave it a shot and hoped Old Navy would be able to solve this issue for me, because they had several pairs of pants that met my needs. Hoorah. NOT. I bought the Divas in black, washed them and wore them. And then, the smell. It began wafting about me, fooling me into thinking I had burnt my Amy’s Frozen Pizza. But no, my friends. IT WAS THE PANTS.
Let it be known: Old Navy’s pants smell like burnt beans. And apparently, no amount of washing and airing and drying or vinegaring (yes, that’s a thing) can destroy this stink. And as Google often does, it reminds me that I’m not alone in my bizarre searches.
So now I’m back on the hunt. Black pants, I know you are out there. Please Google, help me find them.
