The Wrong Trousers

THIS WEEK: Women’s trousers, Bougatsa, SALE!

THING: Women’s trousers

My son works in a high street clothes shop, and when he first realised how many different types of black crop top there are, he was agog. Halter, cold shoulder, long sleeved, backless, high-neck, scoop neck… the list was endless. ‘THAT’S WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE A WOMAN, KID!’ I yelled, stubbing my cigarette out in my fried egg.

But despite being constantly gaslit by 60,000,000,000 crop tops, women continue to fall for fashion’s charms. Oh, but it’s fun, we say, crying in changing rooms with warped fun house mirrors that make our thighs look like bouncy castles. It’s a form of self-expression, we say, even though when we’re being our true selves, we’ll wear a hoodie covered in baked bean juice for six weeks straight.

We don’t want to admit it, but fashion is a tool of oppression for women the world over - from the slave labour that’s used to make the clothes to the unfathomable bra sizing system inspired by the Fibonacci Sequence. And now the latest way to keep us too distracted to build the matriarchy is this: THE LARGE TROUSER.

Now, listen, kids, I’ve been around the block, trouser-wise. I know what it’s like to trail a flared jean leg in a puddle. I’ve nearly given myself an appendectomy trying to zip myself into a pair of drainpipes. I’ve owned houndstooth checked capri pants (a personal low). But now I’m calling it: trousers have got out of hand. It’s an absolute circus, literally, because every single pair will make you look like a clown. Or like Aladdin on his way back from football practice.

Even in mainstream, high street shops like M&S, you now need a degree in trousers just to get through the door. And for some reason they’ve all got names like pint-sized cartoon mobsters - Barrel Leg, Balloon Leg, Carrot Leg, Straight Legged Chino, Palazzo. And they’re so HEAVY. I tried to pick up these wide-legged ankle grazers (?) and it was like trying to hoist the mainsail of the Cutty Sark. I am very, very relieved that the 5ft tall woman in her sixties who was also looking at them decided not to buy them, because one gust of wind and she’d have been on the roof.

Postman Pat, is that you?

Even though I didn’t even want to buy large trousers, there were so many of them that I became convinced that there MUST be some that would suit me. But of course that’s how they get you, because nobody suits big trousers unless you’re a model with ridiculously long legs sitting at an angle with the photographer lying on the floor. If you’re just a regular pear shape or a short arse, you’re probably going to look like a safety curtain at a panto. Or a children’s movement facilitator at Breastival, Cumbria’s first breastfeeding-positive, trauma-informed woodland gathering (£600 for a two-day pass).

Or - best case scenario - a member of forgotten 90s band Northside with a bottle of MD 20/20 hidden in your bucket hat.

There’s also another thing that annoys me about the big trouser trend - they’re potentially dangerous. I dare you to look at this image without imagining yourself falling down a flight of stairs and breaking both your ankles.

Anyway, it’s a no from me. Trousers have dogged me my whole life, trying to humiliate me, expose my arse crack and show everyone a relief map of my flaps. You’re not fooling me again this time. I’m going to slip into something more comfortable until this trend is over or I’m too old to care - whichever comes first.

VERDICT: Stitch-up

THING: Eridanous Greek-style Bougatsa

When I’m not on my high horse about large trousers, I’m celebrating the latest jeans-unfriendly triumph from the Greek-style island of Eridanous - BOUGATSA.

It’s fun to say bougatsa. Say it three times. Do a little dance. Make a little love. Bougatsa night! It’s even more fun to eat bougatsa, because it’s custard-filled filo pastry and what’s not to like about that? Also, the fun never stops, because in Greece, bougatsa is sold in shops called bougatsopolia. And if that hasn’t got you racing to the Jet2 website, I don’t know what will.

Lidl Bougatsa, however, looked a bit unpromising at first. Although I really appreciated the generous free samples of cocaine and heroin!

Oops, sorry Lidl legal team, that’s sugar and cinnamon. (Street names).

When it was cooked (not pictured) it was delicious. A word of warning, though - it’s very hot when it comes out of the oven, so if you’re a greedy pig like me, wait for it to cool for one second otherwise you’ll bougatsa up your mouth. And it may seem like the height of decadence (and also obvious), but please don’t eat filo pastry in the bath like I did - unless you want to recreate the exact conditions of a chronic skin disease.

VERDICT: The Great Bougatsaby

And finally, I’M HAVING A SALE! 💥

For the rest of May, you can get an annual subscription to the Lucyverse for just £35.

That’s the price of a cheap pair of barrel legged carrot waisted Palazzos! And instead of crotch rot, you’ll get:

✍️72 (!) hilarious paid posts in your inbox over the year (omg what am I doing with my life, this is not a sustainable business model)

🤣Four years of archive lols

🎓An encyclopaedic knowledge of the M&S, Lidl and Temu product ranges

🥰Joy, fun and laughter in dark times

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