By Julie LaFreniere, News Correspondent
Spain normally conjures up images of bullfights, flamenco and sangria. But after spending five weeks in the country, I would have to add harem pants to the list. That’s right, harem pants. Apparently what Americans usually associate with MC Hammer is all the rage in Spain.
Last summer I had the chance to leave Boston and experience a very different style. I studied in Cuenca, Spain on a Dialogue of Civilizations, and learned not only do locals live la vida loca by starting parties at 3 a.m., they also sport some crazy fashion. Ugg boots and North Face jackets were nowhere to be seen.
Both Spanish men and women put a huge emphasis on style. Maybe it’s simply because of the warmer weather, or maybe famous Spanish artists and architects such as Salvador Dali and Antoni Gaudi inspire more creative expression. Whatever it is, Spain takes street fashion to a whole new level.
Our Dialogue started in Barcelona. When I landed, I saw someone wearing MC Hammer pants at the baggage claim. At first, I thought it was a joke. Maybe that person just loved MC Hammer.
However, as I spent more time in the country and visited cities such as Valencia and Madrid, I realized the Spanish seriously sport what we condemn as an ’80s and early ’90s relic.
Harem pants are not only sold everywhere in Spain, they’re also a must-have item. They can be full-length or cropped, solid or patterned and even neon. Every type seems acceptable for day-to-day wear. People dressed them up for a night out or wore them while going to class or grabbing some tapas.
In Boston, sweatpants are a staple piece in one’s wardrobe. But outside the gym, sweatpants simply do not exist in Spain. Harem pants are their version. The key difference is they still manage to look fierce, even if they are just thrown on.
By the end of my Dialogue, I couldn’t help but learn to love both the comfort and look of harem pants. My friend and I couldn’t resist buying some.
While harem pants are comfy, the footwear in Spain looked anything but. As tourists, good walking shoes were a must. But while we wore sneakers, flats and flip-flops, locals walked down the street as if it were the runway.
As much as I love heels and wish I could wear them all the time, I, like many others, am not willing to battle the beat-up streets of Beantown. If you see heels around here, it’s only in the office or at the club. But Spaniards are not afraid of heights and always look chic, even when they are just running errands. People say beauty is pain, and the Spanish seem to mean it when it comes to footwear.
Flip-flops and sandals were found only on the beach and athletic sneakers only in the gym. Sneakers on the street were limited-edition Nikes, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Zara or Converse.
Another fashion trend I observed was jeans in 80-plus degree weather. Jeans were never off-limits there. In Boston, May and June mean sun dresses and shorts. However, even in mid-May, the Spanish locals were saying the beach was too cold – and with that, they were donning jeans and blazers.
In Spain, there were no wide-legged, flared, or boot cut jeans. Everyone – boys and girls, men and women – wore skintight jeans. And they weren’t just dark or blue. Spaniards pulled off several other old-school trends: Acid-washed, ripped and ombre jeans were popular.
Even with harem pants, sky-high shoes and ripped jeans, Spaniards keep it sophisticated with fit and accessories. Men’s outfits resembled high-end fashion advertisements. Women always looked tailored, even in pants that were three times too big. They focused on clean lines, proportion and quality of clothes. Big statement jewelry and scarves were a must-have in all closets.
Spaniards always look stylish and put together. Maybe their relaxed lifestyle allows them to put more time into their outfits, or maybe they just appreciate fashion more. Either way, people watching was always a chic experience.
As much as I love Spain – the people, the sights and the lifestyle (especially three hour lunch breaks and siestas) – have no fear. I will never walk around Boston in my harem pants.
I’ll leave that to MC Hammer.
