A Note on Stretchy Pants

The longer I am in the city, the more I notice certain unsaid rules and trends of city life.

Por ejemplo:

1) Never, EVER, EVER have any single, solitary, teeny, tiny, speck of your car cross into the crosswalk on a red light. (Note previous satirical poem).

2) San Francisco public transportation can do whatever it pleases. Buses change lanes without looking, they run red lights, block intersections -- bus drivers basically act like they own San Francisco. So be advised -- don't mess.

3) Always expect heavy pedestrian traffic in Chinatown at any given time of the day. That community has got to be the fittest community around.

4) When possible, wear something from the North Face -- good thing my family's life goal is to become a North Face commercial.

etc, etc.

Now, coming to one of my favorite trends of the City -- if you are going to wear something from the North Face, it is best to couple it with stretchy pants. And when I say stretchy pants, I mean poshy, sleek, black, expensive-looking stretchy pants (heck, why not North Face stretchy pants!). However, before everyone runs out any buys pants for their new San Francisco look, be advised you want pants which are cut off just above the ankle (beware of the flare), or just below the knee. And they must, must be black (you may be able to get away with dark gray).

To complete your look, you will also need to purchase neon-colored running shoes, posh sun glasses, and a three inch stretchy headband. Got it? Perf.

This look was one of the first things Toby noticed about the City.

Something about the look is quite sophisticated and intimidating in all its simplicity. You see girls sporting this ensemble in almost every San Francisco venue at any time of day or night. It is the "thing to do."

(Here is Gwyneth Paltrow modeling the look -- ignore Madonna)

So, with that being said, Thursday of last week, instead of putting on jeans and a sweater, I put on my black running pants (cut off just below the knee) with a white pull over (made out of technical fabric). I donned my big brown sunglasses -- thank you Randi -- my hot pink tennies, and went out on the town to run my errands.

And voila -- Annie is city girl. I am just that cool.

I should've paraded my cool factor during an actual workout on a Saturday morning.

There is a cul-de-sac at the end of the street in which people gather to workout. It is surrounded by the largest and most beautiful houses in San Francisco and has an extremely long set of stairs running through a beautiful garden.

Toby and I noticed the cul-de-sac during a Sunday afternoon drive. People were gathered in their technical gear (plenty of black stretchy pants) doing yoga, push-ups, sprints, stairs, etc, etc.

"Woah," we thought, "impressive."

Group workouts in the middle of a poshy neighborhood, in the middle of a poshy city, with tons of poshy people -- Does it get more sophisticated? We don't know. We had to participate.

So we did. We ran the stairs.


And we loved it.

Two Utah kids, sporting cotton, Spectrum 10k shirts, sans sunglasses, and sans Mercedes -- the cul-de-sac needed some diversity.

We love the City. Stretchy pants and all.

P.S. - When I tried to take a picture of one of the cul-de-sac particpants (a tall, extremely muscular, black man who was jumping up onto a five-foot high wall), Toby asked me politely to refrain. But just know, these people were intense.