I’ve been avoiding posting my epic Pinterest failure for months. Y’all. It’s time to share the pants of shame.
Dum Dum Duuuum….
First, excuse the bad photos. I can’t stop laughing long enough to get a decent photo of the things. My son was willing to model them (for a bribe) but he wasn’t exactly cooperating. Sigh.
These are supposed to be P.J.’s. In a fit of Pumpkin Latte induced pre-Christmas craftiness, I tried to make them without a pattern.
Just like the pin on Pinterest said I could.
The theory is simple. Grab a pair of pants, trace around them leaving a generous seam allowance, and then sew them up.
Problem 1: The pants I grabbed didn’t fit to begin with.
Problem 2: Wine. I was feeling very festive and seasonal. My ability to trace a “generous seam allowance” was marginal. (However, I had an excellent grasp on the phrase “generous wine allowance.” Ooops.)
Problem 3: I can’t sew. I suspect a more experience seamstress would have recognized the problem long before the pants were finished.
I managed to finish these shortly after midnight on December 24th. The original plan was to make a matching pair for my boys and give them to them to wear for Christmas Eve.
I had ambitiously purchased enough fabric to make some for my husband and I as well.
In theory, they would have been amazing and cute.
The reality fell flat.
After the first pair, I was laughing so hard I just gave up on the whole silly idea.
Sometimes, you just have to admit failure.
The Pants Of Shame
When I showed my husband, I told him he couldn’t laugh. Then I asked him
do you think we can fix them?
After he stopped laughing, he looked at me in shock.
He has a point.
As pants, my boys would have worn them half a dozen times before they outgrew them.
As pants of shame, their comedic value is eternal. I can pull these suckers out of the closet any time I need a good laugh.
Let me take you on a quick tour of the best parts.
(My model has requested that I provide anonymity… in case his friends ever see the photos. I don’t exactly blame him.)
You’ll notice that my son had no problem moving around during the photo shoot. In part, this is because the pants did not bind or constrain him in any way.
Note the festive Christmas gray flannel. It’s actually a beautiful herringbone tweed pattern that would look marvelous on an old man. It’s just the thing for little boy’s PJ’s for Christmas photos.
I thought the drawstring concept would be just the ticket.
Too bad the drawstring wasn’t FUNCTIONAL.
(I kind of sewed it into the waistband.)
My son did a Miley.
I’m so ashamed.
(Right after this, he fell to the floor and did a backwards summersault WITH the pants still on his head. He was in a mood.)
And then there’s this.
I couldn’t get anyone to model it for me, so you’ll have to take my word. If you held the pants up in front of your face, the thigh gap arch in these pants is big enough to see through. (Yes, it’s as bad as you just imagined. Possibly worse.)
I have no explanation.
The good news is that I’ve started assembling this year’s Halloween costume… assuming someone is willing to go as an “after” photo for Subway.
Any clue what I did wrong? Help from sewers and non-sewers is welcome. (Or if you just want to pile on and make fun of the pants go right ahead.)