A Toast to Trousers

     I'd like to take a moment to sing the praises of one of the great fashion innovations of all time.  Sure, we all wore our share of bell bottoms and platform shoes, but those were just passing fancies.   I'm talking about the one item that's in the front of your closet that goes with everything. You count on them week in and week out, in sickness and in health, til death do you part.  Or maybe not.  If I can only take one pair with me into the afterlife, I'm taking these:
     Black Pants.
     My black pants are the backbone of my wardrobe, always in style and working as hard as they can to do what I wouldn't even consider asking any other piece of clothing to do: make me look thin.
     If you are like me, you have several pairs, in different fabrics and shortened for various heel lengths.  And each pair is a different level of fancy.
     My black jeans, the most casual, are my step up from blue jeans.  Black jeans with a t-shirt for lunch with a friend. Black jeans with a sweater and cute boots for a movie with my husband. Black jeans are the answer when you think some women might be wearing blue jeans but you're not positive.  Black jeans say,"I will make you look cute and casual but slightly upgraded."
     Then we have the workhorse--all purpose black slacks hemmed for a short heel.  I wear them with a blazer for a meeting or with a sweater to a play.  They are board meeting pants, funeral pants, Friday night at Temple pants.  They are practical, professional, can-do trousers.  They get a lot of wear, but because they are black, never show it.  These pants have been THE answer to the age old question, "What should I wear?" and are the MVP of my closet.
     Finally, I have my dressy black pants.  Full in the leg, these are the pants I go to put on when I suspect other women will be wearing a dress but it's too cold or I haven't shaved my legs.  Full black pants and my green silk blouse have been my date at a dozen holiday parties.  Black pants and my ruffled blouse have seen be through January Bar Mitzvah parties.  Black pants and a sparkly sweater is my uniform on New Year's Eve.
      I love my black pants.  I don't think they get enough credit. Day after day, season after season, year after year.  Who is always available and ready to go wherever I want to go?  Who never makes my butt look big? Who let's me spill my coffee and not have to go home and change?
     It's the James Brown of my wardrobe, the hardest working pants in the shmata business: Black Pants.