When I started Kung Fu some four-and-a-bit years ago, I bought two pairs of the then-current black kung fu pants. They were, quite literally, my kung fu pants. With the exception of a few rare occasions where I practiced in shorts, if I was doing kung fu, I was in those pants. They came to China with me to train. They survived all my weapon sets with only a small nick in one. The leg elastic broke on one, and I liked it enough to remove the leg elastics on the rest (but then put my legs into the monk socks and wraps anyway). They turned blue from the frequent washings. They were, in a sense, as much a part of my kung fu as anything else.
Despite this, when it became apparent they were getting a bit thin in places (or I should say when it was pointed out to me) I simply bought a couple of new pairs.
"New pants tonight?" Around a half-dozen or so variations of this was repeated to me last night. As much as they were a fixture for me, for many in the school they were even more so. I probably could have gotten a tattoo and it would've been less noticeable than replacing those pants. For all those that began at the school within the past two years, for all the time they've seen me train and teach, I've been the one in those dark blue pants.
What's funny is that I myself noticed 'new pants' while training. The material on these pants is quite different from the old, more canvas-y and less of pure-cotton-y. Every fast leg movement brought with it a rustle of fabric I was not familiar with, and every time I noticed it and almost paused. Four years of noiseless kicks now hitting fullsteam into swishing fabric.
One of those interesting unexpected things from something one gives little thought to... like your pants.
Posted by kannik at January 19, 2005 03:19 PM in Daily, Kung Fu