I have a story about traveling pants - but it’s not about sisters, or friends, or magic jeans. (and i haven’t sold the story rights. yet)
no. mine is more a story about the pants that got away. these pants. elliott & i ended our guatemala trip in antigua, which is where we did all of our shopping. when we first went to the market i was nervous to bargain with people, and i felt insecure about criticizing their wares. matt was very clear the whole time through that he was buying a hammock, a bedspread, and a rug. he wasn’t very swayable. but me i was like oooh this oooh that. as i ooohed over stuff i realized how many of the vendors had repeats, and i realized how much tourist manipulation was going on. and i got feisty.
at some point i stumbled upon these pants. aren’t they glorious? they’re droopy-crotched and multi-colored and i’ve certainly never owned any like them. they made me feel awesome. like an unfamous, musically-stupid rock star.
the problem was the vendor, who would not go below 100 quetzales, or about 12.50 US, and me, i would not go above 80 quetzales. $8. it was a battle of wills, and he, having the only pair of these pants in the market, had the high ground. i criticized the crap out of them, too. the stitching, the design. actually i don’t speak much spanish so i probably said stuff like: “azul es mal. loco! loco!”
i also have a terrible poker face so he knew how badly i wanted them. in the end i did not purchase the pants.
matt thought they were ridiculous diaper-pants. and he teased me about them then, and after we left, and after we got back to portland.
every so often i look up this picture of the pants, and miss them. next time i’ll suck it up and spend the extra 2 dollars to have joseph’s amazing technicolor dream pants.
UPDATE: 4 dollars