Mariah Carey's pants

OK, I have apparently been too serious lately, so we'll lighten things up...
I have a weird obsession with Mariah Carey's pants.
I am not a big Mariah fan, either of her appearance or her music. But I am a borderline stalker when it comes to her torn blue jeans.
I suppose I should explain. We share studios with KRBE, a pop station, and Jack FM. KRBE is the big, popular station, and we are pretty much gravy trainers. The hallways are filled with KRBE stuff; autographed pictures, signed guitars, a "man or woman?" photo of Clay Aiken...all sorts of weird/cool pop culture things.
Including Mariah Carey's pants.
Just outside the ESPN 97.5 The Ticket Studio, hanging on the wall in a glass frame...
When I first came to the station, I thought ESPN...sports...we'd have a Calvin Murphy jersey or something like that hanging outside the door.
Instead, we have Mariah Carey's pants. Faded blue jeans with her signature.
OK, so she's sporting. She's been Jetered. I guess it makes sense that her pants would be outside our studio.
So I have embraced her pants. I am intrigued by them. I wonder where they have been.
Before every show now -- for luck -- I go all *Proximo on them.
(*-In Gladiator, when Proximo returns to Rome, he walks up to a statue, says "hello, old friend," touches its feet and says, "bring me fortune.")
Mariah's pants are my old friend. I ask them each morning to bring me fortune.
So far, not so good. But I have a new object of affection. A new idol.
By the way, 29 waist, 32 length, in case you were curious. Mariah is a tall one.
Bring me fortune...oh magical pants of Mariah.