Wednesday, 5 June 2013

Yes, There is a Difference…the Black Pants Phenomenon

  

By Kim Carmichael

The only time a writer's home is truly neat is when they have writer's block.  At those times we decide that organizing a cabinet or painting something is of vital urgency.  When our characters call to us, we could care less about anything else as long as everyone is alive and not bleeding out.

During my last writer's block I decided that it would not only be an awesome idea to clean out my side of the closet, but to arrange the clothes not only by type but by color.  This was the precise moment I set myself up for failure. In the back of my mind I knew the minute my scene gelled in my head, I wouldn't even care if the clothes were clean let alone arranged.

Around the time I surmised changing all the hangers to those thin velvet hangers would be the best idea in the world, I noticed that I could not find one of my favorite pairs of black pants.  I also made a fatal mistake…I asked my husband if he knew where the said pants might be.

After frowning and shaking his head as he joined me, he decided his form of help would be counting the black pants I currently own, holding up each pair, and asking why they weren't the favorites.

As a wife of twenty years my first instinct was to tell him that I knew the difference, and he would never get it.  Instead, I answered the question.

The pants in question were the perfect shade of black—an awesome jet black that never fades.  The material is not too thick yet structured enough to have a shape.  They have a front pocket for my phone, but it is not too bulky and the pants lay flat.  Also, the pants have belt loops so I can wear my favorite belt without the belt moving around.  Most importantly I like the way the pants hug my bottom; they make me look like I have one!

After my fifteen-minute dissertation on the wonder of these particular pair of black pants, my husband moved the hamper aside, found the said pants, and backed out of the closet careful not to make any sudden moves.

With my closet in disarray, but my pants present and accounted for, the heroine in my current novel decided she would talk to me…about clothes—hey it was a start.  I also backed out of the closet.  The cleaning could wait for another day.

For the record, I am now privy to the knowledge that I own 57 pairs of black pants, 1 pair of red, one pair of white and six grey.  There is a huge difference between all the pairs.


Kim Carmichael began writing eight years ago when her love of happy endings inspired her to create her own. 

A Southern California native, Kim's contemporary romance combines Hollywood magic with pop culture to create quirky characters set against some of most unique and colorful settings in the world.

With a weakness for designer purses, bad boys and techno geeks, Kim married her own computer whiz after he proved he could keep her all her gadgets running and finally admitted handbags were an investment.

Kim is a member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as some small specialty chapters.  A multi-published author, Kim's books can be found on Amazon as well as Barnes & Nobel, and she is a finalist in the Assent Publications Great romance Contest for her indelibly marked series.  From alcohol to makeup to infrared cameras and even scientific lasers studying the atmosphere, Kim has worked in some aspect of sales and marketing for over twenty years.

When not writing, she can usually be found slathered in sunscreen trolling Los Angeles and helping top doctors build their practices.



14 comments:

rue volley said...

Love you Kim! xoxo

Decadent Publishing said...

I understand COMPLETELY.
I was off to a conference last weekend and wigging out because my favorite pants were not in the closet. Almost had to settle for my second-best pair, but found the first-best in amongst the skirts. We just moved and SOMEONE had simply flung clothes into the closet without ordering them (*cough* me *cough*).

Nothing like your first-best pair of pants to make you feel good. :)

SinMacD said...

Yes, there IS a difference. The favourite pants are a common phenomena, and their loss would have been a devastating blow! I'm so glad you found them!
I'm also glad to know I'm not the only one who abandons organization projects, unfinished, because their characters are high maintenance and have an evil sense of timing.

Nicola Ormerod said...

i dont have favorite pants but i do have favorite shoes!

Tamara Eaton said...

I think I get attached to certain clothes. From the time I was a girl, I find a certain pair of pants, dress or shirt and wear it almost exclusively (or wish I could). :) I love the fact that your organization helped you out of your writer's block.

Jessica Subject said...

LOL I understand what it's like to have a favorite pair of pants. Though, I think I need some more black ones. :-)

Kim Carmichael said...

Thank you all for stopping by to discuss my neurosis with me!!

Jaime Samms said...

57? Not really. That's hyperbole, right? Because I own, like five pairs of pants. Two are yoga pants and the rest are jeans. Seriously. Two dresses and, like, three skirts. I may have just let down the whole of the female population single-handedly...

Kiru Taye said...

LOL... Great post. I do have favourite shoes but not trousers.

Kim Carmichael said...

Jaimie, it is not a hyperbole, I do own 57 pairs of black pants. Apparently I have an issue.

writery said...

57 pairs! really? OMG that's crazy. i have my favorite black pants but .... that's a lot of pants lady!

Kim Carmichael said...

Thank you all for showing up and sharing my issue with me!

Nana Prah said...

Cute story. There is nothing like your favorite pair of black pants. It's so tragic when they rip.

Anthology Authors said...

I've got a lot of pants, too. I don't know if I have favorites anymore because I don't really like how any of them fit. Wait! I have one pair I love. They are old, holey, and comfy. Unfortunately, I see their end drawing near very soon. :( I don't know if I will be able to replace those pants. It will be a sad day, too.

Marci