This entry would happen to fall under the category of "other things" and really doesn't have anything to do with anything in particular.
I apologize if the title lead you to believe I may be writing about a tune sung by The Cowsills, but sometimes when I need a little pick-me-up, a pick-me-up that a Snickers® just won't satisfy, I tell myself, and let on to others, that I'm wearing "Slacks."
I'll admit, part of the allure for me is affording myself the opportunity to say the word "slacks." Some words just seem to roll off the tongue: Frothy, Soliloquy and Smarmy are examples of just a few, but I digress . . . how did "slacks" get the name? Don't know. Never looked it up, but it does seem to have a certain air about it - top of the food chain sort of thing when it comes to the pecking order of dressy leg coverings.
I know, there is such a thing as "dress pants," but to avoid any confusion or the chance of weakening my argument I shall refrain from mentioning, and ignore all references to, "dress pants."
Why do I tell myself I'm wearing "slacks"? I do it because the general perception is that slacks can be so much more dressy than your ordinary garden-variety "trousers" and way more fancy than mere "pants." For cryin' out loud, Blue Jeans fall under the category of "Pants" . . . but will never, in any circumstance, be mistaken for "Slacks."
It's a good way to give yourself a mental boost when you're feeling down and a bit underdressed - and with our impersonal, modern-age cyber-relationships and the advent of telecommuting, nobody will ever have to know you're really only wearing ordinary pants.
You could be sporting a worn out pair of Levi's with a hole in both knees. Chuckle to yourself. The joke's on them.
Sweatpants? Totally different animal altogether. Don't even get me started.
