Sunday Post 155: Pleated in a Flat Front World

I recently went to the dry cleaner with my favorite khaki dress pants, the bottom half of my favorite suit.  The front pocket had a rip at the top – guess my money clip just got too heavy.

My friend behind the counter just shook her head; she doesn’t speak much English.  She turned the pants over and pointed.  I put on my glasses and got close.  She frowned as if I’d misbehaved.

There below her finger was a thread bare hole where my right rear cheek normally rests.

“Can you fix it?”

She glanced at me like I was crazy.

“No.”  Ha-ha-ha.

I hung my head and retreated to my car.  My favorite pair succumbed to my own behind.

I plotted my next move.  Khaki suit, gone.  The gray stripe is frayed at the cuff.  I might need a new suit or two.

I’d been shopping and saving, waiting for the bi-monthly Joseph A. Banks buy one get 67 free sale.  When it arrived, I jumped in my car and headed to Cameron Village.

I picked out four suits – all for the price of one!

The young salesman was great.  He stuck with me as I pondered my selections: khaki, a light gray, checkered blue and a deep charcoal.  He was patient.  I’m a slow shopper.

When I got into the dressing room, I tried on the first pair of slacks.  Flat front, no pleats.  Hummm.  Not a fan.  Their suits always have pleats.  I was feeling a bit encumbered.

This is the trim cut suit.  You can handle one pair of flat fronts.  I thought to myself.

The seamstress came out and pinned my trousers.  The jacket needed a quick fix too.

I headed back to change into the light gray.

These are flat front too!  Oh no.  I can’t breathe.  Everything’s all squished in.  I can bare-ly move my legs.

Before I went out I glanced at the blue checkered and the khaki – they were flat front too!

Ahhhhhhh.  It can’t be!  What has happened?  I can’t do this.

I stepped out.  My guy was waiting, dollar signs in his commission only eyeballs.

“I don’t like the flat fronts.  I’m feeling claustrophobic.”

“Nah man.  They look great on you!  You’re thin.  The pleats are for guys with big thighs.  That is definitely NOT you.”

He brought the seamstress out.  She agreed.

I glanced once more.  I felt my hips, stuck in position as if held in place by a straight jacket.

“I… can’t… do… this!”

I dropped trou and dashed back into my dressing room.  I pulled my left boot on as I dashed by the dress shirts, my guy nearly in tears.

Too often I live my life wearing pleats in a flat front world.  Sometimes, yes sometimes, you have to make a change.

Leave a comment


  1. Mel Ham

     /  February 9, 2014

    your brother despises flat front pants. He has a couple of pair. He can tolerate a style from Columbia which he wears until thread barren. His suits and dress (slicky dress pants) must be pleated.

    As a woman who is fighting gravity with the decline of a pounch to the lower gut I do not like pleated pants any more. They look dated to me. Plus when you check out the side view it looks like i’m pregnant or i’m carrying Cam’s basketball for him. It’s all with where we girls wear our pants compared to the boys…we are higher (not good pleated) they are lower okay..guessing that is what it is…factor in bigger buts than most boys you just have a wider area all the way around….glad I got this off my chest (chest that is another issue..see bra blogs) love much mel…and i’m not 60 …if I am..then you are 59 !!!!!!

  2. Wayne

     /  February 9, 2014

    You are your Granddaddy in reverse. In the 1940’s when he was a young buck they quit making pants with pleats to save material for the war so that is what he wore in his hey day! When WW II was over and the 50’s came in, pleated pants with full legs and pegged at the ankles came in. They were called “drapes.” That showed affluence that you could afford that much material. We thought they were cool! I got my first pair as a hand me down from my rich cousin and I thought I was hot stuff. Just add a key chain and duck tail hair cut and you couldn’t touch me. Watch out Elvis, But Daddy would have no part of it. Since you couldn’t buy non pleats he started having his suits tailored. Since pleats came and went, he stocked up on work pants to make until the next fashion swing. He live to be 82 and he never owned a pair of pleated pants! They call us the In Between generation for more reasons than one. I like both! Dad

  3. Aunt Susan

     /  February 9, 2014

    I like your Dad! he’s got taste!!


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