If you’re a fashion hound, a term* used loosely, consider yourself warned. The sight’s not pretty.
*you enjoy looking presentable in clothing
Lee Classic and Levi 500, respectively. Both my only pairs of jeans. Both the only pants I wear, period.
Sure, I’ve got a handful of other pants (not counting the scrubs worn for work). They’re good pants. What I consider good pants anyhow. No holes or tears. Mostly black. One pair of dark navy. Cotton slacks worn for interviews.
Or when I simply need to look presentable.
Here’s the rub. I’m the ungirliest girl. I loathe shopping. For pants and for shoes is the worst. The ultimate shopping torture.
Therapy shopping?! That gene passed me by. In a big big way.
Unless by therapy shopping you mean liquor shops.
The jeans, they’re beyond repair. Patches are o-u-t out. Why am I so certain? Because there used to be patches! On all four knees. They eventually peeled off, hapless victims of disintegrating threadbare weave.
So I let the jeans go au nautrel.
I can’t bring myself to kneecap ’em, as it were, neither can I toss them. No way. Especially pair A. Those Lees Classic are the best pair of jeans, possibly even pants I’ve ever owned! Absolutely love ’em!
Pair B, well, they actually began as work pants for a cleaning job in 2007, then reverted to normal use. A credit to the jeans indeed since clothing imbued with jobs – some might say polluted by jobs – RARELY are permitted entry into normal clothing circulation.
It’s how it is and must be.
I digress slightly only to illustrate the value, importance and attachment to the only two pairs of pants I wear.
Oh! And each bought used at the Goodwill! How’s that for longevity on a poor man’s budget?!
So patching, tossing or cutting them into shorts: out. Reality’s staring me in the face and it’s harsh. Reality demanding that I get myself into the car. Switch the ignition. And drive my sorry blue-jeaned ass to the thrift store for a “new” pair of jeans that are al least presentable. And sans air-conditioning.
I’ll be lucky to land some Lees or Levis with that comfort and fit I like. And like. And like. And like. Until they’re threadbare. If I’m super lucky, I may even find a T-shirt to match: