I've been wearing my Fran Pants the past few days.  Fran Pants are jeans that I named after my ex-mother-in-law because these are the only types of pants she wears.  They are thick jeans, the kind with no stretch.  They are wider-legged than normal, and are flared at the bottom.  I love me some flared leg jeans, but I prefer stretch jeans because they fit better and don't feel so bulky.  And they look nicer, too.  Whereas Fran Pants make you look at least 25% thicker than you really are, because the jeans are 25% thicker than they should be.  And they're heavy, so they have a tendency to pull down on your waist, so if you wear them for more than a couple days, they will start falling off your hips and you will need a belt.  Right now all my other pants are dirty (and one pair just doesn't fit me anymore as I lost weight) so Fran Pants it is.  Oh, and many types of Fran Pants usually have decorative back pockets, like sparkly or something similar, because Fran is a fancy motherfucker and needs her jeans to show it.  But the ones I have luckily don't.  Another issue with them is that the front pockets are too short to actually hold much of anything.  So if you're shoving your phone in your Fran Pants, it's going in sideways.  I mean, they're kind of comfy and they fit good after a washing, but I honestly can't wear them without feeling like I am imitating Fran.  

Let me tell you about Fran.  And yes, Fran is her real name.  I don't care about not sharing her real name because I don't care about Fran, because Fran is one of the most overt narcissists I've ever met in my entire life.  

• She's rude, stupid, and doesn't listen to anyone when they talk.  But then again, neither does my ex.  It's like they're pretending to listen, but then as soon as you're done talking, rather than comment on what you've said, they just say whatever it is they have been thinking about in their brains while you were talking.  
• Fran also has to be the center of attention at all times.  One time, I was talking to my ex's aunt, and we were talking about the fatigue you get from being sick.  I had no idea at the time I had POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), but I knew something was wrong with me.  Fran busted right into our conversation and said "Tired??  You guys have no idea what it's like to be as tired as I am!!  I have CFS!!"  His aunt and I just looked at each other and laughed.  
• Fran is a drunk.  Like a horrible drunk who makes really, really stupid decisions while inebriated.  Whether it's being rude and loud as fuck, carrying around babies while stumbling, or just laying on the floor for three days after finding out her son was gay (not my ex, his brother), she just cannot fathom what it's like to be an actual adult and not act like a idiot when she's been drinking.
• Fran has no idea what boundaries are.  When her kids would get pimples, she would walk up and take her fingernail and dig it into their faces where their pimple was.  She also talked about everyone's sex life as though it was any of her business to do so.  One time, she very loudly made fun of her gay son's best friend who was visiting and told everyone the girl had a "spastic colon" so we all better be nice to her. 
• Fran cannot STAND it when someone does something better than her.  Her and I used to grow and paint gourds together.  When everyone would buy my gourds, she would get very angry and say "Oh, I bet they're just taking them home to paint over them!"
• Fran is a homophobic racist.  When we used to do craft shows together, she saw these two black women who were selling candles and proceeded to make fun of them the entire time, very LOUDLY.  She wasn't even drunk.  I had to go apologize to them afterwards, but they refused to speak to me.  I never did another craft show with her again.  When the next year rolled around to go, she said "Oh, are we doing the show again?"  I said "Are you kidding?  After what you did last year?  Humiliating me like that?  No way.  Never again!"  She was so freaking angry at me for that.  But what did she expect?  She also used to HATE gay people, but when she found out her son was gay, she had a literal mental breakdown about it.  Now he's her favorite son and she's all about "the gays" (as she puts it).  Some could say "Wow, she's changed!"  No.  She's a fucking narcissist and now she can get attention from this son, because her other kids hate her.  Narcissists have no actual side they want to be on, it's just whatever suits them at the time.  It's all fake: the hatred and the love.  
• Fran thinks she's fancy.  She wears her Fran Pants, fancy tops that shows her cleavage, has 10,000lbs of makeup on everywhere she goes, and takes several hours to do her hair.  Which is why wearing my Fran Pants makes me feel weird, because I am not like that at all.  They make me feel fake. 
• Fran used to love to ruin Christmas and my ex's birthdays for me.  She would find out what I was buying him and she would run out and buy the same thing and give him his gift before I could give him mine.  If I could go back in time, I would confront her publicly about this.  But she's a narcissist, so there was no way she wouldn't make herself out to be innocent and everyone would think I was the jerk.  But she's still around, so I still have time to confront her. 
• Fran LOVES to shame her children.  She's a horrid bitch, so she doesn't give two shakes of a frog's ass if she looks like a loving mother or not.  I mean, she will lie and say she is, but she's horrid.  She recently told my ex that she he was a piece of shit for giving up the rights to his children.  So he called me and asked me if I felt the same.  Just so you know, my ex and I don't speak much.  He and the kids have a tiny bit of a relationship, but I stay out of it.  They are adults now.  I don't need to intervene.  But he called and I said "Listen, you made the best choice at the time for everyone.  And the kids are happy because of it.  Your mother is there reason you were put in the position to give them up anyways.  She told me you all did drugs in front of my children.  I now know this isn't true, but she called me and got it into my head and told me to never let my kids over there again."  Now, all of that is true.  She did say that to me.  But even though she was lying, I am grateful to her, because my ex was a bad father to my kids and him giving them up was the best thing he could do.  I didn't say that to him though, but she had no right to tell him he was a piece of shit for giving them.  Because that was the BEST decision he ever made as a father.  NOT giving them up would have been a piece of shit move.  Things happened at his house that never should have happened to my kids.  Giving them up was generous of him, as he's a bit of a narcissist too, and giving them up meant giving up his control of them.  She also shames her daughter to this day for her bad choices.  Like constantly.  And she lives with her.  How horrible that must be.  Fran just fucks up everyone's life she's involved in.  And yet she still thinks she's #1.  
• Fran is a horrible grandmother.  She's given up on my kids completely.  Which is good for them, because they hate her.  And not because I told them to.  But because she treats them like garbage.  When they were little she used to complain all the time to me "You're always at your mom's house!  Why can't you bring the kids over here?"  So, when I left my ex, he had custody of the kids half of the time (it was summer and he was laid off of work at the time).  He'd bring them to his parents house for 3-4 days a week.  So when he'd do this, his parents would pack up and leave!  So much for wanting to see the kids.  But then as they got older, the less and less she wanted anything to do with them.  The icing on the cake was when her husband, their grandfather, died and she completely ignored them at the funeral.  Then again, so did their father.  They felt like outsiders at their own grandfather's funeral.  The whole family is filled with assholes.  From top to bottom.  But luckily my kids don't need them, as they have me and their actual father, the man that raised them, to love them and care about them.