She’s returned to fashion crime scene to unravel the mystery of high-waisted pants

It’s the time of year when summer is supposed to be over but you’re still being seared alive by the sun. Now I do realize that the autumnal equinox isn’t until Sept. 23, but my seasonal calendar is a little different.

For me summer ends when the Halloween decorations and 1-pound bags of candy corn and pumpkin Peeps are out in full force at all the stores. So basically, I bid farewell to summer in early August.

Another sign of summer being canceled is when the clothing retailers bring out their sweaters and wool pants. I was at a boutique when the outside temperature was 102, but inside it was a cozy coats and turtleneck tops palooza.

This excited me because seeing a stack of cashmere sweaters gives me all the fall feels and entices me to drop to my knees and pray for a 40-degree temperature drop. What didn’t bring me joy was seeing some of the fall fashion trends. As in, I can’t believe high-waisted-pants are still in style.

Ugh.

Two years ago, I was complaining about high-waisted pants and — being a naive fool and perhaps the worst fashion prognosticator since the zipper was invented — I assumed this style of pants would be gone before you could say “clearance rack.”

But no, they’re everywhere. In cotton, denim, wool, velvet: You name it, they’re living large in every store I ventured into. This perplexed me to no end. How did a pant style that hits your bra line become so popular?

I decided this topic called out for me to do some investigative reporting, and by that I mean interrogate a sales associate about this fashion faux pas. My question was simple. I politely asked why women are buying pants that share real estate with their bra and draw attention to any and all stomach pudge?

The woman warmly welcomed my question and explained to me that high-waisted pants are flattering because they make your legs look longer. I had to concede she had a point because when your pants can call your clavicle a roommate, that’s going to create the illusion of a longer leg line.

Being an intrepid reporter, my followup query was about the stomach issue. This seemed to confuse her so I pointed out how the pants don’t exactly flatter anyone who’s not working six-pack abs. She still looked perplexed, so I abandoned that line of inquiry and made a hasty exit to the dressing room with — surprise — a pair of high-waisted pants.

It had been two years since I tried on a pair on, and in a robust salute to doing my investigative due diligence, I decided I had to venture back into high-waisted pants. I actually had to sit down on the bench in the dressing room and give myself a pep talk because my psyche still held the scars from the last time I was in this style of pants.

After a couple of deep breaths I pulled the pants on and loudly sighed. It was a well-worn, weary sigh that haunts dressing rooms across the globe. Because this was the sigh you make right after you’ve tried on an article of clothing that has irrevocably hurt your feelings.

In an attempt to rally and not weep in the dressing room, I leaned my head against the mirror and forced myself to summon some positive thoughts. The only one I could come up with was that at least it’s no longer swimsuit shopping season. So, I guess I’ve got that going for me.

Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs, on Twitter at @snarkynsuburbs on Instagram @snarky.in.the.suburbs, and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.

This story was originally published September 6, 2023 at 5:00 AM.