Once upon a time, I found a pair of pants at TJMaxx. They were perfection. A lovely grey color in lightweight fleece. Long enough for my 5'11" self in a flattering(ish) slightly flared leg. Just the right amount of stretch in the waist so they stayed up, but not so tight as to give me muffin top every time I gained a billion pounds. They fit me when I was pregnant, when I was postpartum, when I was still just fat, and when I was finally back to pre-pregnancy weight. We were together for 8 years. And then things started falling apart. Literally.
I've been encouraged by Chanel and Seth for months to, "let them go". I was promised that they would be taken to a pants-farm, where pants run free for the rest of their days. I resisted--arguing they still had good wear left in them. Until I was faced with that sad truth that there was no actual crotch left in them. And as useful as crotchless fleece pants might seem, I realized the time had come to part ways. So last week I packed them up, and sent them to the pant farm. Good bye pants. Sniff Sniff.