Back when I was husky I had to wear "husky" jeans. I was probably too young to know what this meant for me, you know, socially, and my mom did one hell of a job to make sure I didn't find out anytime soon. Imagine her fear! Kids can be downright mean in the fourth or fifth grades.
I threw her for a loop when I started gravitating toward non-husky jeans (aka jeans made for regular-sized children) at the local Kohl's. I would ask her if I could try them on and she would have to come up with some funny explanation about how I would not like them or how they weren't quite "my style." Ha! "My style!" Please, mom - I'm 10! Anyway, poor woman, God bless her, she got me to try on and actually like the "husky" pair each and every time, usually fit with a chic, stonewashed finish and a cool, little (big) elastic waistband to accommodate my fluctuating, flabby figure.
Well, further into the school year I flat out asked my mom what "husky" jeans were really all about. By this point I (amazingly) had what they like to call "friends" and it was only a matter of time before I compared myself to them. And their clothes, too.
So out came the, "Mom, why do all my jeans say 'husky' on the waist?"
"Oh... Well... Honey..."
I can't remember her exact quote, so I won't even try to B.S. something. I'll paraphrase. She told me that the "husky" referred to the majestic Siberian husky or Alaskan husky breeds of dogs, and like these dogs the jeans were rough, tough, resilient and rugged, much like myself, and said I should be proud to sport such trousers. Heck, she even suggested that I was just as cool as the popular canine that my jeans represented.
From that moment on, unbeknownst to me, I lived out the rest of my chunky childhood relatively carefree.