Who knew you could clean pants?!
I bought myself a new pair of pants to celebrate hitting my goal weight. This is them. Vuori’s ‘MetaPant’. No, I don’t know what that means, either. But they’re good pants.
I don’t often buy myself clothes because mostly I just get along looking like a bag of shit, and when I do buy nice clothes, I wreck them. Quickly.
But it was a big deal hitting that goal after a couple of years, and I had a discount code, so what the hell. I dived in.
Second time I wore them, I spilled massaman beef into my lap. Not the whole bowl. Just a couple of big ol’ chunks and some gravy. Enough to stand out, to really let everyone know, “Hey, look at this fuckin’ guy.”
Even as I was carefully, very, very carefully, moving the food to my mouth, I was thinking, “Be extra careful, JB. These pants are nice.”
I got the fork to within an inch of my gaping maw when some weird anatomical wrenching took place and twisted my hand around, spilling the beef.
I wasn’t even angry. Tipping oily food on expensive new clothes is what I do. I went home, heavy of heart, thinking I’d toss them in the washer and get used to the giant oily stain on my crotch.
But there was a stick of garment cleaning product I had never before seen in our laundry. Just sitting there. And I figured, what the hell, with the same abandon that had led me to buy an expensive pair of pants from the internet and wear them to a food spill Hot Zone.
Friends, that magic stick was magic!
My pants look as good as new. I really must tip some oily pasta on them next just to make sure it all actually happened.
I have a magic spray from Dominant, the Australian version of Amway, except Dominant's products are fucking amazing and do the trick (https://domhome.com/).
My BFF spilled hot oil down her brand new white and grey maxi dress one Christmas eve when she was getting the pan out of the oven to put the roast spuds in, and immediately and sadly concluded that the dress was toast. As the roast potato scoffing freeloading BFF that I was, I told her not to worry about the dress, I had a magic spray that would get the massive oil stain out of the hem. Her accidental second Christmas gift was me turning up on Boxing Day with the dress so clean you'd never have guessed she'd ever worn it, never mind spilled Canola all over it. Magic spray FTW!
I've heard tale of the magic stick, or perhaps a magic spray, and unfortunately so has ms insomniac, who then instructs me to purchase same, with some vague statement such as "go and buy that magic laundry stuff my sister has", which inevitably leads to failure on my part.