Or perhaps I should write "breeches." It's back to physical therapy again today. For that activity, I have taken to wearing soft, comfortable no-they're-not-yoga-pants that flare out from the knees down so they almost look like a long, divided skirt. They could hardly be less like the heavy Carhartt "Double-Fronts" I routinely wear for work and play, denim canvas with an extra layer of material down the font side of both legs, hence the name. I feel like "mutton dressed as lamb" in the lightweight britches but it's actually practical wear for the task.
Still, there's a niggling sense that anything one can do so lightly attired probably doesn't really need doing. Some intersection of a lifetime spent doing (not usually strenuous) physical work and Mom's solid German-farmer background has me believing that any light or pretty clothing is entirely impractical and no sensible person would be caught wearing such stuff, at least during the work week.
The Problem With Captains
2 weeks ago