Letters to the editor are something of a staple of any newspaper. It’s a place where anyone who wishes to is able to voice an opinion. Sometimes they’re based on current events with a local spin put on them. Sometimes the author is writing to publicly thank a group of people who have helped them recently, be it the staff in a hospital or the members of the public who have generously donated to a street collection. Sometimes these letters are serious and sometimes they’re humorous. But at their core is the fact that it’s an open space where debate can be prompted.

Such a letter appeared in an American newspaper last week, written by a man who was adamantly against the general wearing of “yoga pants”. He did not seem to make any attempt to disguise his disgust of the clothing item that has become a wardrobe staple for many.

“Not since the mini-skirt has there been something worn by so many women who should never have it on in the first place,” he wrote. “Yoga pants can be adorable on children and young women who have the benefit of nature’s blessing of youth.”

I thought we were well past the point where it was seen to be acceptable to tell people what they can and cannot wear unless it somehow violates general conditions of modesty. In my opinion, yoga pants, or leggings as we are more likely to call them, are some of the most comfortable articles of clothing to ever be invented and I’m one of those people who was a late convert. Prior to buying myself a pair a few years ago, I was a person who lived each day in her jeans and I suffered countless days where I’d be caught in the rain in town and have to spend the next few hours trying to find every radiator known to man that I could press up against for a few minutes to get rid of that soggy feeling as soon as possible. Leggings, on the other hand, seem to dry in minutes.

Instead of writing a reply to the letter, women in the community choose to state a protest parade where they all wore their favourite yoga pants to counter against his claim that they should all “grow up and stop wearing them in public”. From the pictures I’ve seen, it was a joyous occasion with women of all ages coming together in their comfy clothes, united in their anger that someone dared to criticise an innocent pair of leggings. As the parade ended, an impromptu yoga class sprung up in a park with hundreds choosing to take part. It further proved the value of a humble pair of leggings: you never know when you’re going to have to fall into the downward dog or the upright tree.

The letter hit on a sore point for many as it further went on to criticise the women themselves.

“Maybe it’s the unforgiving perspective they provide, inappropriate for general consumption, TMI, or the spector [sic] of someone coping poorly with their weight or advancing age that makes yoga pants so weird in public.”

I certainly took umbrage at this sentence. The Rhode Island man who wrote this seems to think that women who choose to wear leggings just grab the first things they can lay their hands on, chuck them on their body and then jolly their way down the street without a second thought. It would appear that he forgets that women do spend time looking in the mirror and can be their own worst critics.

Now, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty certain that your weight doesn’t magically change depending on what you’re wearing. Whether I’ve got on my jeans, smart black trousers or leggings, my thighs are still going to be seen and they’re always going to be the same size. It’s bad enough that a woman’s weight dictates where she can even buy her clothes without now trying to tell her that the small range that she can buy on the high street is further restricted by the narrow mindedness of some.

Leggings are versatile enough that they can be dressed up or down. If I’m just chilling around the house or spending a day in front of my laptop, leggings are my first point of call. I’ll chuck on a baggy top and that’s me ready to face the day. If I’m going for a night out, they can be called upon to take the place of tights in the colder months and as a bonus, you don’t have to spend the whole night worrying about them getting snagged and laddering.

Of course, there are places that I wouldn’t wear them, but that’s my choice and my decision to make. This gentleman claims that “they do nothing to compliment a woman over 20 years old” which is unfortunate because I only started wearing them after I reached my second decade on this earth. My mother was then introduced to the leggings way of life and hasn’t looked back since and she’s definitely over the age of 20. A huge majority of those who wear leggings are over the age of 20 so that’s a lot of people that he thinks need to rethink their fashion choices and also a lot of people who are pretty angry at his attitude.

The man behind the letter took a few days to respond to the mass backlash against him, but his defence was that it was all to be taken as a joke and that he himself did in fact own a pair of yoga pants, although this was scoffed at by many. He said it was written to be a jovial break from the current political campaigning. Even if it was a joke, it still highlights the bigger problem with society in that there are people out there do see it as their duty and right to tell other people how they should look, how they should dress, what their weight should be, what they should be doing with their lives and so on. It’s something that is going on constantly and campaigners are making small steps in changing this attitude but then something like this comes along and it all seems to have been for naught.

No matter what anyone says, I’m still going to be wearing my leggings with pride. The only person who can police what I wear is myself because I certainly do it more than enough. If I want to wear jeans, then I’ll wear jeans. If I want to wear leggings, then I’ll wear leggings. If I want to wear a luminous green top with sparkling pink and purple polka dots, then I will. As long as I’m happy with how I look, I’m not risking an indecent exposure charge and I’m comfortable, then how dare someone try to take that away from me? It’s my body: my blank canvas to dress as I see fit.