For a work-at-home gal like myself, Facebook often provides that gathering at the water cooler that I miss three weeks out of every month when I’m not in the office. And these days, what recurring theme is buzzing through my timeline more than any other?
Fifty Shades of Grey (the movie) and yoga pants.
So about the movie. I never go to the movies because I have Netflix. Will I see it at home when it comes out on Netflix (which, judging from the early reviews is rather imminent)? Maybe. I’m an adult, after all. I have three almost grown children so I obviously know how babies are made. So, yeah, I might watch it. Or not. My choice.
Do I need to read about the many reasons I shouldn’t see the movie or read the books (oops, already did) because the overt sexual themes and misogynistic messages will alter the way I view myself as a woman? No, because I’m an adult who read the three books that were—and this is just my opinion—so poorly written (except for the sex parts—she nailed it there) that they serve as a cautionary tale about how not to write. And because I’m an adult who knows that the kinds of encounters described in Fifty Shades of Grey were fictional, just like the poorly developed characters and the flimsy plot, I also know that no woman in her right mind would ever fall for Christian Grey’s kinky shenanigans.
That is correct–no woman in her right mind would ever fall for those kinds of kinky shenanigans. One of the best gifts I’ve been given is a strong character. I come from a long line of women on both sides of my family who were strong, independent, smart, and sassy. I pray every day that I’ve passed that genetic gift onto my own daughters, and I think I have. I can only imagine the torrent of bon mots that would fly out of either of my daughters’ mouths were they to be approached by a 27 year-old billionaire with a menu of weirdness and a non-disclosure agreement. He’d sulk away with more than his tail between his legs.
Enough about that.
But speaking of legs, apparently, my wardrobe of black and grey leggings and yoga pants are apt to render men apoplectic and unable to function in polite society. Oh well, sucks to be you, I guess. I live in leggings and yoga pants and I have no plans to stop, so let this be a warning to all of you men out there: When you see me coming, avert your eyes. I mean, really, is seeing a woman in yoga pants all it takes for you to become so flustered that you can’t manage your man business? Maybe you need to work out a little more. Or go on a date or something. Geez.
While I don’t agree that women should go about showing off all of their goodies, I also think that women should wear what they feel comfortable wearing. Right now, it’s leggings and a sweatshirt. Tomorrow it might be yoga pants and a hoodie. Next week when I’m in the office, I might wear a skirt and a pair of boots. Or maybe I’ll wear yoga pants again. Because guess what? If done correctly and accessorized accordingly, yoga pants can be just as dressy as a pair of slacks. So there. Leggings look great under a long sweater and a pair of riding boots. So there again. Let’s face it: Women have enough to worry about without having to be concerned about your unharnessed junk.
Here’s the thing: If you want to wear a pair of jeans that sag to your knees, go ahead. Look like a fool. If you’re 300 pounds and want to wear a pair of jogging pants with JUICY emblazoned across your ass, go ahead. Become a fixture on People of Walmart. Adhere to your workplace dress policies, because often there is a good reason those policies are in place. Dress the way you’re comfortable within the boundaries of your workplace, wear clothes that fit, and call it a day.
There are too many other things to get your panties in a twist about than movies and clothes. Instead of worrying about what everyone else is seeing and wearing, spend some time teaching your sons and daughters to be strong, smart, independent men and women. The rest will take care of itself.