Go on. Admit it. You love them too.
It’s that soft coziness as you slip them on, nothing creasing against your skin. The elastic’s lack of judgment, the ability to sit in any contorted position without your jeans demanding to know what you think you’re doing.
They whisper of slow times with their best friend, the couch, of Netflix show marathons, of time that is entirely your own. Time when no one is watching.
And then there is the fleece. Everything should be fleece-lined.
But like all good things, sweatpants have their place. That’s what makes them special.