Have you seen those pants that turn into shorts? Usually khaki and covered in pockets, such trousers have a wraparound zipper near the knee that, by unzipping, lets you show how you not only have bad taste in pants but also in shorts.
I often see American tourists sporting this look when I’m in other countries, and I’d like to know why. I suppose it would make sense to wear unflattering clothes capable of fulfilling many purposes if you were, say, undertaking a multiday trek through the wilderness. But you can probably dress normal if you’re undertaking, say, the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg. You won’t actually climb ev’ry mountain, after all.
I would love it, though, if there were additional zippers that could convert the pants into even more types of clothing—a kilt, cowboy chaps, a jockstrap, what have you. Be prepared, I always say, ‘cause you never know when a Sound of Music tour will develop into a sex party. Which would of course be titled “Sixteen Going on Seventeen Loads.”
I myself don’t own any pants with zip-off legs. The closest thing I have are the Abisko Hybrid Trail Trousers I bought from Fjällräven before going to Norway in July.
I promise I didn’t put them on just to go look at Edvard Munch’s The Scream. My husband, Frank, and I were planning to do the 4-hour hike to Preikestolen (Pulpit Rock)—a flat-topped cliff that towers nearly 2,000 feet over a highly scenic fjord in the country’s southwest—and I figured I needed my own hideous pair of pants in order to fit in with the other trekkers.
Each leg has a buttoned pocket on the front above the knee. There’s no way to convert the garment to shorts or chaps, but there are “zippered ventilation openings” on the sides to let in a little air and show a little leg. The “hybrid” in the item’s name appears to come from the combo of, as the product description on Fjällräven’s website puts it, “G-1000 Lite Stretch on the front and full stretch recycled polyamide/elastane fabric on the back.”
The poets who penned that sparkling copy didn’t mention this part, but full stretch recycled polyamide/elastane fabric turns out to be pretty flattering to the backside. So thanks, Fjällräven, for creating the illusion that I have a fjülly roünded rümp.
We did manage to complete the hike, in case you were wondering. We negotiated the 5-mile round-trip route across rocky, uneven terrain without getting injured. We squabbled only once (Frank got many yards ahead of me during one of my unannounced pauses along the trail, and when he didn’t look back I accused him of being like that guy who left his girlfriend behind to die on an Alp).
Eventually, we got to take in the majestic view from the top of the cliff. My hybrid trail trousers acquitted themselves admirably.
That’s about all the material I’ve got on the hike. It was a nice day, but I find that nice days don’t always generate tons of content.
As J.R.R. Tolkien wrote in The Hobbit, “Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.”
And when you don’t have anything uncomfortable, palpitating, or gruesome to discuss, there’s always pants.
Indirect Objects 