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Last week, Adam Tschorn of the LA Times was ratioed to death on twitter when he gallingly scorned people for wearing comfortable clothes during the work day:
Enough with the WFH sweatpants. Dress like the adult you're getting paid to be https://t.co/ulVcJBTeSf
— Los Angeles Times (@latimes) April 17, 2020
Personally, I don’t have a dog in that fight. Who gives a shit. Wear what you want, tell people what you want them to wear, nothing matters anymore.
My wrath is focused on a different set of self-satisfied pants pioneers. I’m talking about the people who tell you that they wore jeans recently, and what it did for them. They say things like “I wore jeans yesterday and it made me feel normal again.” They say it like they ladled out soup at a shelter, or finished a marathon in under six hours.They’re the same people who do dry January even though they’re not concerned about their drinking habits, and they’ll come to the bar anyway to hang out and order seltzers. They want us to be impressed. And they definitely want us to try it ourselves.
Look: if you need to wear jeans to feel sexy right now, go for it; just don’t fucking tell everyone about it. I’m maniacal about recycling because I get sad watching Our Planet, but I don’t tell everyone that I soaked a jar of peanut butter overnight to spiff it up for pickup. Know why? Because I’ve learned that the more you proselytize recycling, the more people throw out their plastic simply to get back at you for being annoying. Better to just do it, shut up about it, and move on with my life.
If you tell me you wore jeans yesterday and it made you feel normal, I’m going to spend the next week turning myself into a dump. Crust can stay but scabs are getting picked. Shampoo? lol. Sure, I’ll pick my toenails, but I’m leaving them on surfaces intended for eating. That’ll teach you not to share your choice of pants.