I would never have noticed if the world-famous architect had not raised her arm to point. On her upper half she wore a white blouse, black jacket, angular glasses. Below, a seemingly unremarkable pair of black trousers. But as she lifted her arm to trace a curve in the air I noticed the stitched insignia just below the pocket on her pants: a puma in white thread.
Was she wearing track pants?
As I scribbled notes about the building I took a closer look: matte finish, slightly tapered legs, ankle zips casually unzipped. Yes, they were track pants, worn not to work out at the gym or hunker down at home but on a day when she would be in front of an audience, traipsing up and down showing off her firm’s latest building.
That night, as I typed up my assessment of her tower (I found it to be a bit much), I simultaneously opened a tab and searched “puma track pants,” clicking through pages of seemingly identical offerings looking for the platonic version — her version. Too loose, they looked messy. Striped sides, too sporty. Too tight, they would resemble the dreaded yoga pants. I clicked and clicked but I couldn’t find them.