Impenetrable mysteries of the Gyllenverse, part II

This past weekend, my dear mother and her sewing machine rescued me from an ongoing nightmare that, while trivial, drove me to the edge of sanity. As in most cases when I'm riled about something, I wrote about it. Observe:

(6/20/07)

How do you do it?

I speak not of your universally acknowledged acting talent, nor your apparently limitless athletic prowess, nor even your well-documented yet mysterious culinary achievements.

I'm talking about your pants.

You know, the article of clothing that most men wear on their hips, just below the waist? Not you. Yours are somewhere between just off the hip and hanging on to ass for dear life. How can you stand it?

I ask this because for the past few weeks, I've been experiencing this unorthodox manner of attire against my will.

This was not an attempt to live as you do and somehow gain a deeper understanding of your motives and passions. I just can't afford to buy new clothes, and my pants are all getting rather large for me. Yesterday, though--that was the worst. Every time I stood up, my crotch was halfway to my knees.

What? You didn't realize this was about Jake? You'll soon learn: everything with me is eventually about Jake. I prefer it that way.

Anyway, the proximity of Jake's waistband to his hips is a favorite subject of mine. He's been showing us his boxers and briefs for years, in photo shoots and on the street. On any other man, I would find this irritating, but on Jake, it's somehow oddly charming. Of course I have developed my own theories about it. I don't believe it's a fashion thing. These pants are not low enough to qualify for hip-hop hideous. Well, except maybe here. Besides, hasn't that lunacy more or less run its course?

My suspicion, based on personal experience, is that there's a design/fit issue involved. In my case, it's the fact that clothing manufacturers appear to be unaware that some women have an ass as well as a waist. Every pair of pants I try on that fits my hips and thighs invariably bags away from my waist by at least 3 inches, sometimes much more. Yes, I know my ass is huge. But why must that also mean that I have no waist? Idiots.

So, if women's pants can be so drastically out of sync with common female proportions, what's to say men don't suffer the same fate? Look, if you will (such a chore!), at Jake's thighs.

These are not skinny, spindly stick-legs. They're not even average, not-too-thin-but-hardly-big thighs. These are impressive, well-muscled powerhouses, built and maintained by constant athleticism. Not body-builder huge, but big. Now, look at his hips and ass. Go on, it's okay, I'll wait.

Slim hips. Don't make me describe the rest or I'll completely lose my focus; let's just say it's about as close to perfect as any ever was.

Tell me, men--do you find that the thighs of most jeans and slacks are narrowly cut? Because if that's the case, what's a man like Jake to do? Buy bigger pants, of course. Especially if he wants a bit of, well, dangle room.

All photos: IHJ.