The first pair of grey trousers I owned were a cheap tailored style from a supermarket range, bought for a job interview I didn't get. What they taught me was that grey hides nothing: the fabric was thin enough that every seam and pocket lining showed through under office lighting, and I spent the whole interview convinced everyone could see my knickers. Cheap grey is a false economy in a way that cheap black never quite is.
If you've got none in your drawer, start with a mid grey in a slightly heavier fabric, something with a bit of weight and structure rather than anything floaty. A straight or slightly wide leg in that mid tone works with almost everything you already own, pale jumpers, white shirts, navy, black, even olive, and it photographs well without looking washed out the way very pale grey can. Charcoal is the next one to add once you've got the mid tone sorted, because it does a lot of the same jobs as black but softens a dark outfit without making it look like you couldn't be bothered.
Grey trousers are at their best through autumn and into proper winter, when you want something that reads as smart but isn't suit black, and they carry a jumper and coat combination better than almost any other colour I own. They're less forgiving in high summer, light grey especially creases if you so much as sit down and shows every bit of sweat, so I tend to put mine away from June to August and bring them back out once the evenings turn. Wet weather is where the heavier wool blends earn their place over the thin stuff, because a downpour on light grey trousers is a genuinely bad afternoon.
Over months of actual wear, grey is where you see wear first, at the knees, the seat and anywhere the fabric rubs against a bag strap, so a wash that's too hot or too frequent will leave a pair looking tired long before the stitching gives up. I wash mine as little as I can get away with, cold cycle, inside out, and let a steamer do the work a hot iron would otherwise do badly. Pilling shows up fast on anything with a bit of wool in it, so a fabric comb kept by the wardrobe isn't a fussy habit, it's maintenance. Buy the length you'll actually wear with the shoes you own, because grey trousers pooling over trainers reads as a mistake in a way black somehow gets away with.