So… I think I’ve posted here in the past that I was not financially gifted as a young man. In fact I was dirt poor. I drove a 1964 Impala as a college student in 1978. I could tell you a hilarious story about that Impala, but I probably won’t since it was perhaps the single most humiliating moment in my entire life. And that’s saying something.
Well, anyway, as I was saying, I was a dirt poor college student in 1978, driving a 1964 Impala with much of the engine replaced from a place callled the “U-Pull-It Auto Parts.” Basically it was a junkyard and you could go in there with your tools and take stuff off of wrecked or abandoned cars and pay for it on your way out, with no warranties or guarantees, but a hearty “good luck!” thrown your way as you clambered back into your own jalopy which was no doubt heading to the same junkyard sooner than you’d like. (Actually that’s exactly what happened with the Impala, so in a sense it was a recycled car twice over….)
Being a poor college student really gives you an altered perspective on many of life’s little details. For example, I had to have a job to stay in school, so I worked at the “Electronic Program Learning Center” at the La. Tech library. My job was to run the electronic equipment at the library, including the audio and video tape recorders, the computer terminals and the record players. It’s sort of funny to think about it now, but we had this huge multi-track tape machine with multiple reel-to-reel feeds which we would play pre-recorded lessons (mostly language class lessons) over a distributed set of headphones. Students would have to schedule a session and we’d switch the audio feeds from the tape machine over the headsets so that students could complete their lessons. We could run up to four separate lessons at once. It was pretty cool.
It was there that I first played the computer game “Star Trek”, a game you had to play with a hand calculator to target your photon torpedoes. I got pretty good at that game…
But I digress, this isn’t about my college job, this is about The Dress Pants.
So, as I was saying, I was not associated at all with anything that could be called “wealth.” Going out for a pizza with my friends was actually a rare treat, and on weekends that I stayed on campus, I ate a lot of macaroni and cheese since the school’s cafeteria was only open on weekends for the athletes. Seriously.
One of the things you learn quickly when you are truly lacking in disposable income is that clothes cost real money. I mean REAL money. One pair of pants might cost as much as my entire dining budget for a week. Or two.
But I still tried to fit in and socialize with the rest of the crowd. Well, I don’t remember exactly the reason, but for some reason there was some event that required “Dress Pants.” By then my entire wardrobe had dwindled down to jeans, painter pants (remember those?) and some overalls. I did not own a pair of dress pants. But I wanted to go to this shindig anyway, so I set my mind to obtaining some dress pants.
My normal clothes shopping outlet at that time was the Goodwill store. And normally I could find a decent pair of dress pants there for a few bucks, but not this time. So I was hard pressed now to come up with a solution.
So it turned out that my stepmother had a sewing machine, but rarely used it…. Hmm…. How hard can it be to make a pair of pants? People do it all the time! It can’t be that hard. So I went back to Goodwill and found a used pattern for a pair of dress pants, and some fabric, for just a few bucks. No problem! I had a whole weekend to make the pants! Sweet!
So, late Saturday night I finally decided to start making the pants.
Early Sunday morning I realized that making pants is not easy. Regular pants, like jeans or something, are pretty easy, but it turns out that making pants with neat and crisp seams, even hems and proper belt loops is surprisingly hard. But I persevered… Cutting the materials was simple. Sewing them together was not too bad, especially when I realized that a poorly sewn seam could be ripped out and resewn. By about noon on Sunday I had completed the basic shape, had gotten the seams flat and even, had the hems even and the right length and had even managed to master the belt loops.
Then disaster struck.
Pockets.
OMG! Who designed this!? Dress pants don’t have pockets made by sewing an extra bit of material on the outside of your pants, a la jeans…. No! Dress Pants have pockets that are supposed to look like nearly invisible slits that open into an inner pouch that is somehow sewn flat into the thighs without ugly folds and fabric bunching where nothing should be protruding. Pockets are HARD! I struggled for hours to get the front pockets in so that when the pants were worn it didn’t look like you had a sandwich in your pocket. But I finally persevered… But it was too late! I had to get back to school, and the back pockets weren’t done!
I was devastated. My poor stepmother, who had repeatedly offered to finish the pants for me, finally came in and suggested that I simply sew in the pockets in back without all the critical detail that makes a back pocket tight and firm across the buttocks, and then to simply cover it up with a flap on each pocket. She showed me pictures of Dress Pants with flaps on the back pockets as a style item, and so that’s what I did.
And I don’t remember now why the pants were so critical, but I do remember that nobody seemed to notice anything unusual at all about my pants with the back pocket flaps.
I wore those pants for a couple more years before they wore out. Flaps and all…
10 users commented in " True Life Stories: The Dress Pants "
Follow-up comment rss or Leave a TrackbackExcellent story.
But I want to hear about 1) the infamous car-related humiliation (can’t mention it and then not deliver). 2) This old school Star Trek game.
Heh, playing the game at that location (which is “Super Star Trek” so may not be the same game I recall, although it certainly is similar)… I failed to stop the Klingon invasion and the Federation was conquered. Let me be the first to welcome our Klingon overlords.
My parents live about 20 miles south of LA Tech. I went there for a year after getting out of the Army. So 1978 in Ruston. Man I’m sorry.
Good story, Cosmic. You’re a braver man than I am. I don’t think I could sew a button on a shirt…at that age. Of course, time has taught me a thing or two.
Yeah, when you get to it, the Impala story has got my interest.
Cullen, in 1978 I was a La Tech engineering student. I went to La Tech for the 77-78 and 78-79 academic years. I ran out of money though, and ended up going back to Shreveport and continued my education at LSU-S where I eventually graduated in ‘84 with a physics degree.
Clearly this vehicle episode has left you with some scars on your psyche. You should talk about it — it will be therapeutic.
I’m here to listen.
Tech is still considered a great engineering school, if their in-school PR is to be believed. Though, not entirely PR. I talked to a lot of foreign-national students who said that LA Tech was their second choice behind MIT. Don’t know about all that, but there were a lot of smart folks there.
Of course I was over in the liberal arts side of the house where the staff bitched about Engineering and Athletics getting all the money. Produce a wealthy booster, guys.
Don’t know if you’ve been out Ruston way in the past 10 years or so, but you’d probably be surprised by how it’s grown. And I mean that both in they way it has grown and the way it has not. I know you’ve been back to Shreveport – everything Ruston and east just hasn’t seen that kind of economic development. 25 years ago, Monroe was the place to be. It’s a shithole now. I grieve for my home state.
Cullen, my father was from Dubach, and lived as a child just north of Ruston, maybe 20 miles. When he was ill with cancer and my brothers and I visited him we went out to his family home lot (the house had long ago burned down) where he told us some stories and showed us the tree he used to climb as a child where he wanted his ashes scattered after he was gone. We honored those wishes. So the last time I was in Ruston was when we carried his ashes back to his place of rest.
We did do a little drive through of Ruston and I’m sure it’s grown, but this boy is now a big-city boy, and “growth” means something different to me (here in the Denver metro area we see a neighborhood the size of all of Ruston go up in a year like fungal blooms on a dead log). In fact my thoughts were more along the lines of “Wow, this is still a tiny little town.” That was in February of 2007. Maybe it’s grown since then.
I also attended La. Tech between 77-79, but left to follow the siren call of the Rocky Mountains.
My family and I did a quick tour of La. Tech and Ruston just last year and you’re right, Cullen, the city has not changed much in 30 years. The university has grown and expanded, but not as much as one might expect in a 30 span of time.
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