Once upon a time, a family called Citizens of Humanity hatched a new pantling. They called it Birkin.
It had front pockets and back pockets, and skinny legs, but Birkin was different from all the other bottoms.
Birkin cried, “Nobody loves me! They all tease me!” and ran away.
Birkin wound up panhandling on Sunset Boulevard.
Then one day a pair of leggings took pity on Birkin. “Why so glum, stretch?”
“Just look at me,” said Birkin.
“You’re cut from a different cloth, that’s all,” said the leggings.
“I am?” said Birkin.
“Yes. You’re double-knit cotton with 1 percent spandex. You’d make a killer high-waisted mini skirt, a curve-hugging tank dress, or a perfect legging, like me. Hollywood adores your type. ”
“They do?” said Birkin.
“Yeah, c’mon.” said the leggings, taking Birkin by the button.
Before long, Birkin hooked up with a starlet and lived happily ever after.