You're an addiction. An expensive one. I let my fingers brush countless pairs dangling from hangers and folded in neat stacks, ready to be disturbed. Your thin yet strong fabric clinging to my skin as I pull you on in the dressing room.

Yes. This is the pair for me.

Dropping hundreds of dollars on a single pair is fairly common these days. You demand a high price but perform well for many years to come. A label means far more now than it ever has. I drop far less, but it still makes my wallet cry desperately for me to stop, don't you have enough?

Don't I have enough? What kind of heinous question is this? No, I obviously do not have enough, and maybe it looks like every other pair I own, but this pair is different. The fabric is extra stretchy and they're high wasted! You are something as intoxicating as drugs, you offer your bearer power she has yet to realize she can harness with a simple walk.

You've grown from a simple pant to a brand all on its own. Devoured by women like carbs on a drunken Friday night. That extra piece of bread at dinner because it's just sitting there, watching, knowing it will win you over. One pair isn't enough it never is. Especially when prices are at an all-time low, and you know they won't be like that forever. An opportunity you MUST take advantage of.

Velvet, black, grey, color block and full of mesh inserts, you come in so many forms. Like a kid in a candy store, we succumb to the newest trends and feeling of comfort we know you offer.

You keep things tight and slim, slick from the outside, and held together on the inside. You hide our imperfections for us while showing off our assets. Legs and booty for days! We walk around in you and turn heads for obvious reasons. We love showing you off on social media to others, allowing for a nice boost in morale, when you just need that extra second of attention when the only one who we want to care says nothing.

It's sad, showing you off in such a way. You want us to be empowered, and that comes from within, because if it's not within, who cares about a ghastly outside shell that molts at the slightest whim?

In my time wearing you throughout my adolescence, you've watched me grow from those darker days. If I wear you, it's because I want the world to know I look as comfortable as I feel. It's one thing to wear you for pathetic attention, and it's another to command it because you know your inner worth, and don't need catcalls to give you those feelings.

Leggings, you're a drug of choice. No matter how many of you I own, there's always room for more.