Skies are blue, trees are blooming, and temperatures are rising, which can only mean one thing – it’s time to take your godd*mn pants off.

My roommate and I have been experimenting with the pants-free lifestyle for many months now. It began in January when one early Friday evening we were sitting on the couch watching Scrubs reruns, harnessing our chi for a night out on the town.

Me: I don’t wanna wear pants tonight, dude.
My roommate: Yeah man, f*ck pants.

Half an hour later, we emerged from our respective bedrooms, me in a tank top and some sort of shorts/panties half-breed, her in what can best be described as beach loungewear. We threw on our jackets and headed out to the club, where we proceeded to drink whiskey and diets and shake what our mammas gave us until we were so pleasantly exhausted and sweaty we could barely stand any longer and had to call it a night.

The point of this little anecdote? By choosing to forego pants, my roommate and I ensured that we would have a fun evneing. If we had been so foolish as to wear, say, skinny jeans or perhaps high-waisted wide-leg trousers or some other wintry-style clothing garment out that evening, there’s no way we could have enjoyed ourselves to the degree we did. We would have felt restricted and gotten sweaty and would have never stayed until the late-night DJ came on and started busting out old-school James Brown jams. Instead of having a glorious evening, we would have had a low-key, mediocre evening, because pants ruin fun. Period. Read More »