This post is about my favorite article of clothing ever. It is not a Ralph Lauren shirt or my sky blue Vineyard Vines shorts. It is not even my Croakies or my very fetching Sperry Authentic Originals.
This post is dedicated to my true favorite article of clothing-a 16-year old pair of blue Adidas sweatpants, also known as "My Blues."
I cut quite a dashing figure in my Blues.Somebody in my family had the bright idea of giving this pair of sweatpants to 3-year old Max. Not several things about these pants:
1. They are now a dull purple do to over-washing.
2. They fit me almost perfectly NOW. Imagine these pants on three-year-old Max. I rolled up the cuffs five or six times and tightened the elastic all the way and still I couldn't wear them out of the house.
3. "Blues" is always capitalized.
My Blues are not just an absurdly comfortable, unbelievably fashionable, and ludicrously attractive piece of clothing. They have been worn on many a special occasion.
I wore them to Wal-Mart when I was 4, (and just a tad bigger, so they didn't fall off my waist completely.) and bought (with 13 dollars that I had saved and a generous donation from my parents.) my first Gameboy Color. Since it was the mid-90's and I was 4, I also bought Pokemon Blue version. (Though Charizard is superior to Blastoise in every way, the Blue version is easier to play as the red tone of the Red version is harsh on a young boy's eyes.)
I wore them to sleep for many years. I wore them when I woke up and lounged around in the summer. (Most of my summer activities in grade school start with an "S" and rhyme with BarCraft.)
I have, all joking aside, worn them every Christmas morning since I was 3.
I wore them under my jeans when Mizzou beat the Jayhawks in Arrowhead Stadium in 2007 to take the #1 place in the BCS.
I wore my Blues to every day of lacrosse conditioning I attended. (All six, I think.)
There are many more instances, but on to more important things.
Rules of the Blues:
1. Do not EVER leave the house with the Blues on unless it is a special event.
2. The Blues must never be worn twice in one washing cycle.
3. The Blues can only be worn to bed when I have clean sheets. (As in, never slept in.)
4. If the Blues are worn post-shower (they always are) then they are never donned while wet. 5-10 minutes of air-drying is vital.
5. The Blues cannot go with me to Mizzou. (They will next year, but I wouldn't dare to subject something so close to my heart to the washers and dryers of Mark Twain.)
6. The Blues can never travel outside of Kansas City. (Soon this area will include Columbia. They may never go on vacation for fear a jealous bottomfeeder may steal them.)
7. Anyone who attempts to touch the Blues with anything besides a freshly washed hand will draw back a bloody stump.
8. The Blues will never be used as shacker pajamas for any reason. When I am eventually married, my wife is not allowed to wear my Blues. (If she is lucky she may look at me while I wear them.) When my body returns to the loam and the cities are but dust, my Blues shall survive, unworn by any other person.
/rules.
I am quite serious about all of this. (No I'm actually not. But a little I am. Nah....but I am a little.)
Anyone who is privy to the glory of my Blues next year should consider themselves lucky. I believe it is time to paraphrase the poet Shelley:
"Look upon my Blues, ye mighty, and despair!" (I said paraphrase which means, in journalism, I can change whatever I want.)
Thank you all for sticking through to the end of this extremely personal confession. If you're thinking about commenting, please do. (And if you read that sentence, you automatically are thinking about it.)
-Max
P.S. Next on A Study in Max: I defend frattiness.
1. They are now a dull purple do to over-washing.
2. They fit me almost perfectly NOW. Imagine these pants on three-year-old Max. I rolled up the cuffs five or six times and tightened the elastic all the way and still I couldn't wear them out of the house.
3. "Blues" is always capitalized.
My Blues are not just an absurdly comfortable, unbelievably fashionable, and ludicrously attractive piece of clothing. They have been worn on many a special occasion.
I wore them to Wal-Mart when I was 4, (and just a tad bigger, so they didn't fall off my waist completely.) and bought (with 13 dollars that I had saved and a generous donation from my parents.) my first Gameboy Color. Since it was the mid-90's and I was 4, I also bought Pokemon Blue version. (Though Charizard is superior to Blastoise in every way, the Blue version is easier to play as the red tone of the Red version is harsh on a young boy's eyes.)
I wore them to sleep for many years. I wore them when I woke up and lounged around in the summer. (Most of my summer activities in grade school start with an "S" and rhyme with BarCraft.)
I have, all joking aside, worn them every Christmas morning since I was 3.
I wore them under my jeans when Mizzou beat the Jayhawks in Arrowhead Stadium in 2007 to take the #1 place in the BCS.
I wore my Blues to every day of lacrosse conditioning I attended. (All six, I think.)
There are many more instances, but on to more important things.
Rules of the Blues:
1. Do not EVER leave the house with the Blues on unless it is a special event.
2. The Blues must never be worn twice in one washing cycle.
3. The Blues can only be worn to bed when I have clean sheets. (As in, never slept in.)
4. If the Blues are worn post-shower (they always are) then they are never donned while wet. 5-10 minutes of air-drying is vital.
5. The Blues cannot go with me to Mizzou. (They will next year, but I wouldn't dare to subject something so close to my heart to the washers and dryers of Mark Twain.)
6. The Blues can never travel outside of Kansas City. (Soon this area will include Columbia. They may never go on vacation for fear a jealous bottomfeeder may steal them.)
7. Anyone who attempts to touch the Blues with anything besides a freshly washed hand will draw back a bloody stump.
8. The Blues will never be used as shacker pajamas for any reason. When I am eventually married, my wife is not allowed to wear my Blues. (If she is lucky she may look at me while I wear them.) When my body returns to the loam and the cities are but dust, my Blues shall survive, unworn by any other person.
/rules.
I am quite serious about all of this. (No I'm actually not. But a little I am. Nah....but I am a little.)
Anyone who is privy to the glory of my Blues next year should consider themselves lucky. I believe it is time to paraphrase the poet Shelley:
"Look upon my Blues, ye mighty, and despair!" (I said paraphrase which means, in journalism, I can change whatever I want.)
Thank you all for sticking through to the end of this extremely personal confession. If you're thinking about commenting, please do. (And if you read that sentence, you automatically are thinking about it.)
-Max
P.S. Next on A Study in Max: I defend frattiness.
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