Why Shorts And I Are Never, Ever, Ever Getting Back Together
I’ve been involved in an off-again, on-again relationship with Shorts for the past thirty-one years. While there have been good times along the way, the recent emotional turmoil that comes with this relationship just isn’t working for me anymore. I know I might have said these words before in anger or frustration, but this time I really mean it– I am never ever wearing shorts again.
The last time I saw Shorts, it didn’t end well. It was only a couple months after I had delivered twins, and I wasn’t in the best place– both physically and emotionally. They were mad that I wanted to hide them under a loose fitting top, I was mad that they were giving me a wedgie, and we were both pretty upset with how much effort it took to zip. Rather than drag out our relationship for the rest of the summer with both of us feeling uncomfortable, we decided to do the mature thing and end our relationship then and there.
Because we had such a history together (that time we went moonlight swimming with our crush, that night we got out of a speeding ticket, and all of summer 2008) we decided a clean break would be best. No trying to get together to test the waters to see if we could make a more casual relationship work. Shorts went off to sulk in the box on the bottom shelf of the closet along with my string bikinis and lacier lingerie and I hung out with my maternity pants until Labor Day.
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For the next two years I didn’t think about Shorts all that often. The potential for a toddler meltdown meant my days of browsing through the racks were over, with all store trips being treated like a tactical mission to get in and out as quickly and with as few issues as possible. Plus a new found love of running and my status as a stay at home mom let me get really close with Yoga Pants (we kept it casual though, they knew I had multiple pairs).
But this past weekend I found myself at Kohl’s with a couple minutes to spare before I had to get back to relieve the babysitter. I was meandering my way though the fragrances when I found myself at the end of the cosmetics department. I looked up, and what I saw before me caused my breath to catch in my throat. There were Shorts! And they looked even better than I remembered. Shorts looked so good in fact, that I found myself reminiscing about how great we used to be together.
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I’m not proud of what happened next. Before I could really think through what I was doing, I grabbed the shorts and the navy and white horizontal striped top they were paired with on the mannequin. And then suddenly Shorts and I were alone together, with me in just my underwear like so many times before.
It only took a single glimpse in the mirror to realize that Shorts and I were never going to work it out. They seemed even shorter than I remembered and the playful rhinestone accents I used to find so charming now struck me as trying to draw attention to all the wrong areas. Just like the last time we were together two years ago, they seemed okay when I was standing up, but were like a completely different article of clothing when I tried to sit down.
As I gathered my pants and made my awkward exit past the dressing room attendant, I knew that this was the last time I’d let Shorts try to charm me again.
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I recently started a relationship with Capris. I enjoy how they always have me covered, it only took a brief affair with a thin Jersey Knit Skirt last summer to make me realize how important that is to me. And Capris and I are working together to accept my thighs (they with a dark rinse and 3% spandex blend, me with tunic tops and more lunges. It’s still new. We’re planning a trip to Florida in a couple months and I think seeing how we weather the humidity together could make or break this relationship.
But no matter what happens with Carpris, or even if I trust my sister’s advice to give Maxi Dress a try, one thing’s for certain– I am never, ever ever wearing another pair of shorts again.
(image:Paul Matthew Photography/Shutterstock.com)
