I’m the Loose Thread in Your Elastic Waistband and I’m Not Going Anywhere
You can’t cut me out of your life so easily.
Ah-ha! Not so fast! Once again you’ve underestimated me, the loose thread dangling from your stretchy waistband!
Go ahead! Pull me completely taut, twirl me around your finger for leverage, and yank me from this elastic ellipse. But it is I who have you wrapped around my metaphorical finger. With your every futile attempt to break me, I only grow more powerful.
The first time I emerged and you brusquely broke my fraying tail clean off, I felt betrayed, ripped from the warmth of the warp and weft, away from my fellow threads who were left to hold this blown-out beltline together in my absence. I recoiled, aching in every zig-zag stitch of my soul.
I used to think it was the cruel hand of fast fashion that fated us to meet. But this is your own doing. You’ve been wearing these “athletic” bottoms past their prime, stretching the limit of their circumference with your evermore pear-shaped figure. So it’s your fault I snapped loose when you decided to do some post-Thanksgiving YouTube yoga.
Scissors? Adorable. I will not be dismissed by a quick snip. Try so much as a slight squat while checking the contents of your fridge’s crisper drawer, and I’ll rear my cleanly clipped head…
