It has been a few years since I made my husband his first really nice English doublet and Venetian hose for 12th Night. It was made from gloriously thick black wool interlined and tailored to fit him from a pattern that too me days’ worth of attempted mockups.
We dressed at home because the event was close by. I was so excited about my own dress and fancy hat that I didn’t pay much attention to anything else until we were at the event.
Once inside, my husband went to the bar to get me a drink. That’s when I noticed some weirdness going on in the butt of his Venetians. My husband has, ask I like to call it, negative butt space. And that’s how I made the pattern, for a man with negative butt space. However, the hose no longer fit smoothly. The thighs were tight. The inseams were all wonky and he had a tell-tale butt lump on one side.
When he came back with my adult beverage, I took a deep drink before the ensuing conversation.
Me: “Darling, why are your pants all lumpy?”
Him: “I don’t know. You made them.”
Me: “Are you, perhaps, just maybe, wearing your cargo shorts under your Venetians?”
Him: “Yeah, so what? I gotta have some place to put your wallet.”
Me: “I put pockets in your Venetians so you could hide your wallet.”
Him: “I didn’t know these had pockets.”
Me: “You’re wearing them. How could you not know about the pockets?”
Him: “It doesn’t matter. I’m not wearing only underwear under a costume. I have to have pants on.”
Me: “The Venetians are pants.”
Him: “No, they’re not. They’re a costume.”
Me: “Are you afraid that somebody is going to pants you at 12th Night?”
Him: “They might. You never know.”
Me: “Your cargo pants have ruined the line of your Venetians.”
Him: “No, they don’t.”
Me: “Why do you hate me?”
Him: “I don’t hate you. Here, let me get you another drink.”