ode to my sweatpant friends

Sweatpant friends are my kind of friends.

In my 40s, my sweatpant friends hurry over in their pajamas and glasses because I sent a text that says “it’s important”. My sweatpant friends know it could be anything from considering divorce to deciding if my daughter can wear THAT dress for homecoming. They also know it could be a while and bring coffee for me and a frozen pizza for later. For my sweatpant friends, there is no call to action greater than simply important to me.

When I was 30 something, my sweatpant friends and I stuffed our fresh baby bellies into high waisted leggings and pulled each other out of the house to meet for a much needed mental break. Afterwards we would land on a friend’s couch for an extended girl chat and quickly changed into the back up “comfortable clothes” we packed in our diaper bags. We kept telling ourselves we were so going to regret this in the morning when all our kids woke up at six, but we remained on the couch in our sweatpants laughing and crying until the wee hours of the night- 11:30p.

In my 20s, my sweatpant friends were there from the moment I got up in the morning, bra-less, disheveled, and grumpy, through a lunch out (still bra-less) and all the way through to that magical part of the evening when we would get our second wind to change out of our sweatpants and meet up with friends at Applebees- we were so evolved.

These 20 something sweatpant friends and I did our makeup together in the leaning mirror on the wall, one looking over the other looking under. Neither getting good lighting, neither knowing how or why they are putting on makeup except for the fact that it feels good, the music is blasting and new conversation is sparked now that we are off the couch.

When my sweatpant friends and I were teenagers, our sweatpants were so oversized we had to roll the top 2 or even 3 times, then hid that bulging roll with an even bigger oversized sweatshirt. It is not lost on us that we were also the most in shape we had ever been then and we covered it. Not because we were self-conscious or because we hated our bodies, but because we didn’t even consider them.

It was Glorious.

Being in our sweatpants now, reminds us of those days back then.

My sweatpant friends quickly form a protective circle around any one of us when the worst of the worst happens to her. They mail or deliver or somehow make everything she likes magically appear on her front door, including her favorite pair of sweatpants. Nothing can ever be resolved until you are in an elastic waist.

My favorite, most cherished, most supportive friends are my sweatpant friends.

I hope you have one too.