Whoever it was, I wish them a life of standing barefoot on upturned plugs
Pockets are a feminist issue. Pockets are a class issue. Dedicated histories have been written on pockets. Research has been conducted. I appreciate all of it, because I simply adore a pocket. Even Ötzi (born 3345 BCE), popularly known as the Iceman (so popular in fact that Brad Pitt got a tattoo of him), loved a pocket. In his case, to carry flint and dried tinder fungus. Pitt probably loves a pocket.
Women, too, love pockets. And yet, we are continually stifled. It is thought it was circa the 17th century when pockets began to be sewn into clothes; men’s clothes, but not women’s. (Although the word pocket is a reference to the pouches women wore around their waists.) Pocket inequality remains: a 2018 study by website The Pudding found that pockets on women’s jeans were 48% shorter and 6.5% narrower than those on men’s. Often, garments for women don’t even have pockets. Worse is the trend for fake pockets. I don’t know who invented this charade, but I wish them a life of standing barefoot on upturned plugs.
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