I woke this morning with the full intention of tubing it to Shoreditch High Street, marching to Goodhood, trying these trousers on, convincing myself I could get away with a large (in the absence of an extra large) and buying them. That I didn’t is more due to the angry weather than any eleventh hour injection of good sense on my part.
They’re Our Legacy and, as is clear, nylon. They’re a track pant, or sporting trouser of some kind; shinyish, crinklyish and lightweight. I have it in my head that these trousers, teamed with something more formal, a boxy blazer and shoes say, would result in a devastating fit. I also have it in my head that the shininess might look a bit like leather from a distance. So there’s a risk of looking a bit Suzi Quatro.