I don’t wear pants

Eighth grade graduation — a day of goodbyes, tears and pants. I have a confession to make; I haven’t worn pants since then.

OK, now get that image out of your head; in lieu of this overly hyped article of clothing, I wear shorts.

Yes, it’s the beginning of fall, and yes, it’s the norm for students to don shorts. But when the cold gusts of winter begin to sweep away the leaves of autumn, I stay true to my collection of shorts.

Every other person will resort to longer pants and jeans in times of cold, but not me — I am a fighter. Of pants.

My passion for shorts blinds me to the haters. On a daily basis, friends and classmates will approach me and ridicule my outfit choice. “Apoorv, are you stupid? It’s like 30 degrees outside bruh!”

In one ear and out the other. Rain or snow, I will still wear my shorts.

Even if my shorts are fitting for the weather, say, on a warm September day, I am still met with criticism. Maybe my shorts don’t match my shirt or they had already been worn that week. I’ve become increasingly suspicious that classmates find excuses to target my choice of clothing just for fun.

OK, yes, I am wearing the shorts equivalent of “graduation goggles” right now. But honestly, the almost nonexistent downsides to wearing shorts are easily outweighed by all the comfortable benefits.

Back in the dark ages, when I sometimes wore pants, I had a bad experience with them. In seventh grade, I walked out of science, excited for basketball practice. I ran outside and met my teammates at the gym. After putting my shoes on and stretching for a while, I started warming up.

Everyone looked at me with a confused look on my face. I followed their gaze to my pants. It always came down to my pants. My pants. I had forgotten to bring a change of clothes, and I had to practice in boxers that day.

Not a good day.

Shorts are much more comfortable to wear than pants. Even sweatpants do not give the comfort that shorts do. 

One day in the cold depths of the 2010 winter, I turned to sweatpants to alleviate my shivers. I walked around with the extreme itchiness of my pants never leaving my mind. The grimaces on my face caused several people to stare at me in utter confusion. In fact, they were so exasperatingly itchy that I turned back to the dependable article of clothing, the one I could always count on: my beloved shorts.

In all honesty, I don’t care what people think about my clothes. Comfort is much more important than that. Conveniently, I’ve been dubbed “shorts guy” as years have passed and pants have remained absent in my life. I have proudly reversed people’s expectations, as the surprise factor as I walk onto campus on a breezy December day is now nonexistent.

So, advice for the shorts inclined — the haters gonna hate, hate, hate. So shake it off, and understand that people are too worried about how they look to really care about your allergies to pants. 

It is best to just use one’s best judgment on whether to wear shorts. Regardless, I will wear a sweater to stay warm, but not pants. Never pants.