OYM Day 7: I Tried Biker Shorts

I ordered a bunch of clothes online recently. There have been times in my life where one could say I defintely had a ‘style’, but I’m not in one of those phases at the moment. One of my best friends likes to remind me of how I wore pastel colors for the first two years that she worked with me (there is no way I wore pastels for 2 years…or is there? I do love a good neutral). My most recent fashion craze has been various shades of black, but not in a Joy Division way, but more of a “I’ve been hiding out in the desert, you don’t know what I’ve seen” type of way.

I wear vintage t-shirts and comfortable jeans. My hair is always wild and my face usually says “and?” when you see it. It’s like I’m trying to become invisible or some sort of Quentin Tarantino villan. But really, I just like the way it makes me feel currently. A little mystery, a little stand-offish, a little lazy. I’m reminded of my fall-out with fashion trends when I see my friends with their blue mascara, trouser pants, and layered jewelry, and I think “Oh yeah! I used to use fashion as a form of self expression that one time!”… Which leads me to today.

Biker shorts. Seen em? Heard of em? They’re going around. My thoughts were… “Hey! These will be great! Like mini yoga pants, but cool! I’ll take 5!”

In reality, I bought one and a few other items…but man! I was excited about these shorts.

Guys…I put those shorts on and immediately felt like a spayed cat.

These shorts looked like they served a purpose. A medical purpose, maybe. They appeared to be holding in my insides, whilst giving me a muffin top, and a nice doughy puff around the mid leg. They could have been a little higher up on the waist and longer on the leg, but these shorts gave no fucks. It. Was. Not. Good. But biker shorts are cool! Maybe I’m just not styling them right? Yeah…that’s it. I just need to make it MORE fashion. I changed my shirt about 67 times. Nope, I still looked like a post-op cat.

Actual photo of post-op shorts.

I asked my husband what he thought. He didn’t say a damn word, and maybe it’s in my head, but I swore I saw him almost wince a little bit at the sight of them. But what does HE know about fashion?!

I meandered around my house thinking if I could pass as a cyclist in these shorts. Biker shorts are for bicycling, right? Maybe I’ll just keep these shorts and get a $1,000 bike and become a cyclist with clickity clackity shoes (always disappointed when I hear the clickity clack and turn around to see a cyclist and not a tap dancer). Hmmm yes, cycle city here I come! I walked passed the mirror to my closet, with my 67 shirts, wondering if my head is too big to fit in a helmet, caught a glimpse of my reflection and BAM! Spayed cat. It’s all I could see. Spayed cats can’t ride bikes! They have to heal! Damnit, I really wanted these shorts to work out. I guess I’ll never have style…or a $1,000 bike. I pictured the Nordstrom’s worker receiving my return, seeing the biker shorts like a white flag of surrender, and saying “UH-OH! Someone tried and failed at biker shorts! WHAT A LOSER.”

Do you see how my mind spirals?

Needless to say, I returned the shorts. But it’s not over. I keep telling myself there are plenty of other biker shorts in the sea. And on that note: Spay and neuter your pets.