Welp, guess I’m an official Portlander now:

I am wearing yoga pants in public. And I’m not at a yoga class.

(In my defense, I *was* at a yoga class earlier. And I had to hit the grocery store on the way home. And by the time I got home I had only enough time to do one thing before running to the next appointment: change clothes or get the ice cream in the freezer. [You’re welcome kids]).

Sigh. I stayed on my “leggings aren’t pants” high horse for so long.* Guess I’m only a few inches down that slippery slope away from pumpkin spice lattes and Ugg boots.

*Yes, I am aware that my momiform consists of leggings and a dress/tunic. But my upper thighs always remain concealed from prying glances. That six inches makes all the difference, folks.