Yoga Pants

I don't remember how the term "yoga pants" came into a recent conversation with my husband, but as soon as I said it he stopped me and said, "Honey, don't say yoga pants," as if I had just tried to talk dirty to him using anatomically correct terminology. I don't know how - because I wear yoga pants (ha!  I said it!) multiple times a week - but my husband has this image of "yoga pants" as thick, baggy, unflattering items of apparel that no self-respecting woman would dare wear (let alone talk about).

All I have to say is that after walking around for most of my life with a butt so flat you could grill pancakes on it, I now have a little booty, and nothing screams "Look at my bum!" more than YOGA PANTS.  I would think he would like having his wife prance around in stretchy attire that accentuates the curves in all the right places.  Or am I just stone cold crazy?

YOGA PANTS.

YOGA PANTS.

YOGA PANTS.

YOGA PANTS.

What's he going to do?  It's my blog, after all.

Christine Mason Miller

Santa Barbara, CA

Writer * Artist * Storyteller * Guide