Ok, on the Subject of My New Black Pants:

Online shopping is one of the best things to ever happen to someone like me. I hate the traditional, ol'skool shopping almost as much as Fred Flinstone probably would have. Ever see him at a mall? Not that I recall. Granted, he wore the same spotted pelt, day after day. But odds are, he would've hated shopping for clothes at the local Bedrock Gap.

So I bought these nice little Black Presentation Pants, you know, for those special times when I have to go to client meetings looking more presentable than the usual "my sweater is too dang Britney Spears short" with matching "my jeans are too dang Christina Aguilera low."

Don't get me started on how much I have rued the past few years of paying more money for less clothing.

So I cruise around Old Navy. com (stop laughing at my blase conformity; at least they offer stretchy disposable clothes). And so I arrive at the aforementioned little Black Presentation Pants. I order them. They fit nicely around the waist. This much I saw in the bathroom mirror at home.

But here's the drawback to shopping online: at least in a dressing room, you are forced to see what you look like, 360 degrees, in full-length before you walk around in public in your new pants. I, however, just decided they must look fine being that they didn't look low-n-coochie like every other pair of pants I've been forced to buy lately.

I don't remember "Tony Orlando and Dawn bellbottom-cut" in the description when I ordered them.

Dude.

I just caught a glimpse of myself in our Hall of Mirrors here at work, and I really look like I'm missing spangles down the legs of these things. I honestly look like I should be pulling rabbits out of a hat, producing pigeons from my jacket or flourishing a deck of cards in your direction, begging you to pick a card, any card.

And I am not exaggerating because when I mentioned this to a friend up here, she had no other response but to burst into laughter.

I shall go home and dig out my black angora beret complete with sequins (don't ask) and polish up on my miming skills tonight.

Remember my handy tip the next time you order clothes online. Be smarter than me. Also, try on your newly ordered Timberlands with some other sock thinner than acrylic, dollar store monkey toe-socks. Which is another story entirely, and again my own fault.