Out comes my mother

Honourable old hiking pants complete with pitch stains and patches

While nobody could ever accuse me of being up on the latest fashion, clothes are important to me. Above all, I want them to be comfortable and functional. I generally like my clothing unrestrictive and there's nothing better that having temperatures just cool enough to make fleece really comfortable. Over the years I have become very fond of particular articles of clothing and I'm unwilling to get rid of them even though they are a little worse for wear.

When I was thinking about what to pack for an upcoming trip I decided, once again, to take along my favourite hiking pants.  I've probably had these for ten or twelve years and they certainly show it. They are nylon so they cut the wind, keep the mosquitos from biting through them, and dry quickly from body heat when they get soaked.  They are also zip-offs so I can use them as shorts if the weather is hot.  I can't remember when or where I purchased them.  They came with me on the Chilkoot Pass two years ago and on the first night I sat down on the root of a tree and got pitch all over the butt.  I never did manage to get it out although it's no longer sticky.

A couple of years before that I was wearing them in some of the slot canyons in Arizona and ripped a hole in the pocket and one in the butt.  I wasn't ready to give up the comfort or the convenience of the pants so I shortened another pair on nylon pants and used the pieces I cut off the legs to patch the pocket and the butt of my favourite ones.  I didn't care that the pants are navy and the patches are black.  It's an indication of how much I like the pants that I was willing to actually get out the machine and sew.  The pants that I shortened might well have remained in my closet until I got fed up with them and gave them away but, because I wanted the material from the legs for patches, I ended up with two wearable pairs of pants.

Knowing my favourite hiking pants have passed the line between unique and disreputable, I recently went looking for a pair to replace them.  I looked in all the usual outlets and even looked online.  It appears that pants that roll up and fasten with a strap are in nowadays.  I couldn't find a single pair of zip-offs that would fit me. I even looked online and didn't come up with anything I wanted. I was grumbling away to myself when it dawned on me I sounded exactly like my mother.  One of her pet peeves was she would "just" find a cosmetic product or a style of underwear, she liked and then "they" would stop making it.

I had a bit of a laugh at myself and realized that the "just" could have been over the space of fifteen or twenty years. I also got to thinking of other items of clothing I'm loathe to part with. I have a pair of low hikers which are as old or older than my hiking pants.  I have other low hikers that I wear everyday but they are not as tough and sturdy as the old ones.  I use the old ones for shop shoes because, although they aren't steel-toed, they offer pretty good protection from falling objects. The lining in the heels has worn through but I just keep wearing them. Then there was the pair of sweat pants that had a waist casing for the draw string that looked more like lace than cotton fleece by the time I got rid of them. I did manage to find other sweats that fit and had pockets, one of my requirements, so I bought three pair just in case, "they" stop making them.

I've heard friends with children say they have been startled to hear their parents' words coming from their mouths when addressing their children.  Even though I don't have children, I'm not immune to sounding like my mother and, most of the time, I don't mind that. She probably wouldn't be delighted with my scruffy old pants but would be impressed that I actually sewed something.   I won't be wearing them on the plane but on the sea in a zodiac I don't think anyone will care.