Not long ago, in the back of my closet, I found a favorite pair of black pants. If I remember correctly, they were originally a gift from my former roommate Jeanmarie LeMense's older sister Kathleen, who at the time worked for Anne Klein in merchandising. Delighted, I spared hardly a thought as to why they had been pushed to the back of the closet, instead admiring how becoming they were - if not as appealing as the The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, then close to it.
However, I should have known (and you have already guessed) that there was a reason they were banished to the back of the closet. As attractive as these trousers are, they could be also be known as the Traveling Pants in that they unzip themselves constantly all day long (but not immediately, which would give one time to change before leaving for work - no, they wait for about two hours), threatening to drive me insane. Not that anyone noticed: I would have to do something very disruptive for anyone to give my pants a second look (although now that I think about it, my co-worker Colleen also has a troublesome pair of pants, a fairly new pair she is sure are about to come apart at the back center seam, and keeps asking us what we think). This time, I think I will really need to donate them to someone who finds that behavior amusing rather than annoying . . .