I do, in fact, have legs.

Remember Sans Pants Pam? Yes, well, other than our love of words, snark and Frill, we are basically the opposite in every way possible. In the same way she is dress obsessed, I am pants obsessed.

In fact, it recently dawned on me that I have never, ever, ever, ever in my professional career worn a skirt to work. Ever. This is not hyperbole. I literally have worn dress pants every single day for the last 7 years.

Alas, someone in the office decided yesterday would be a superb day to have an outdoor picnic lunch. I was not about to schweat my balls off while eating crappy pizza in 100° heat, so I thought I would throw together a little capri number for the day. Until, BAM. A brown linen skirt practically fell out of my closet. I don't know where it came from. I don't even know if, in fact, it is mine. But I do stand by the old 'finders keepers' rule, so I tried it on and somehow magically a-la Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, it fit. And looked relatively normal.

And so, I wore it.

It's me! In a skirt! Nearly as rare as the sighting of the one eyed, one horned flying purple people eater. Obviously, I am also showing off my afternoon Starbuckies delight, as well as the wicked awesome bruise on my right cankle, courtesy of the French River.

In summary, I did not hate wearing a skirt. I also did not love it. And while I will most likely never escalate to the level of crazy that is Sans Pants Pam, I might rotate a skirt into the mix every now and again. You're welcome, world.

Would you like fries with that?

Remember Sans Pants Pam? Yes, well it would seem that in addition to her love of skirted frocks, she also has a thing for Martha. As in Stewart. Yeah, I don't get it either.

But anyway, she was recording some of her latest cooking gems and found this loverly episode:

What would you serve with that? A nice, tall glass of warm whiz?

Martha fail.

Sans Pants Pam.

I have a new friend and her name is Pam. She's an absolute delight. We share a love of Frill, fabulous shoes, snark, proper grammar/spelling and sparkly accessories.

Recently, I've learned that Pammy Pie has a nickname on the streets of Detroit. She's known as "Sans Pants Pam" to those in her circle. At first, I thought this nickname was merely a reference to pranks played on a drunken college night involving a Sharpie, warm water and some Cool Whip. However, it's recently come to light that this is, in fact, a literal nickname.

She owns NO pants.

Zilch. Zero. Nada. Not one pair. No sweats. No jeans. No slacks. No pantalones. Whatever you want to call them, she a'int got none. How about that proper grammar, hmmm?

At first, I thought she was throwing me some super sized hyperbole. You know, like she prefers to wear dresses and skirts and only busts out the jeans and sweats on the weekends. FALSE. She literally owns ZERO pants.

This spurred the following back-and-forth interrogation. All the while, my jaw was on the floor.

"How do you lounge?"
- Cotton maxi dresses

"Shovel snow?"
- Warm tights with Uggs. (Yeah, I'll have to circle back on the whole Uggs thing...)

"Outdoor activities?"
- Garden and mow the lawn in a dress.

"Work out?"
- Work out and walk on the treadmill in a dress. (I can't even imagine the chafing!)

"Ice skating at Campus Martius Park?"
- Sweater tights with a mini.

This went on for the better part of thirty minutes until I had literally thrown every pants-requiring scenario at her and was consistently shut down. I honestly cannot believe she owns not one pair of pants. Not even a single pair of Mavis that make her ass look like a dream.

Sans Pants Pam, you are an anomaly to me, but I love you in spite of it.