How I came to own your grandfather's pants

She wasn't exactly sure how it started.

Perhaps with a little expression of love for boys in leisure suits during a high school passing period. (This was in the mid 1990s). A verbalized fondness for a desire to wear track pants with wide white stripes that skimmed the lateral sides of the thigh and pooled down toward Adidas soccer shoes. Throw in a little Led Zeppelin or Boston and that would be heaven, she would say. Yes, she believed. This was true fashion. This was hot.

And suddenly she found herself the recipient of several pairs of track pants from the seventies- usually heirlooms from friend's grandfathers who had recently either passed away or were the victims of closet overhauls. The pants were usually too long so during study hall she hemmed her "new" dark blue polyester running pants (with red and white thin racing stripes) with safety pins or paper clips. She never would have passed through a metal detector- thank goodness it was the nineties.

Paul was not a boyfriend but he dug out his father's old sky blue leisure suit anyway. The sight of him standing in front of her locker dressed with the vest and all always lead to a big smile and hug. After school and an hour of frisbee at the sled hill, they would pop open the back of the old Ford explorer and sit - sometimes three or four of them- in their leisure suits and polyester pants singing along to Whole Lotta Love. This was heaven, she thought.