When I was a kid my mom would repair our jeans with those iron-on patches that made your jeans look just like new unless you actually looked at them.  When my legs became longer than the blue jeans, she sewed contrasting fabric around the cuffs, ironically, so that I would not be embarrassed about having 'flood pants.'

These innovations were tantamount to wearing a sign that said "Tease Me Mercilessly Until I Cry And Subsequently Can Never Work Up The Courage To Ask A Girl To The Dance." 

I think this experience caused the blue jean pendulum to swing too far the other way. 

I moved into an era when I became too vain about my blue jeans.  I cared about how they made my butt look.  I paid attention to what brand I bought.  I've owned painter pants and bib overalls.  I've had boot cut, flares, bell bottoms, and straight leg jeans.  I've had pre-washed, pre-shrunk stone washed, acid washed, and one innovation called 'unwashed'. 

But mostly I bought blue jeans that were so stiff you couldn't bend your knees for a few weeks while breaking them in.  They eventually became comfortable but only after abrading all of the skin off your lower body.  Once they were broken in they were as comfortable, like they were custom made for my shape.  I held on to a good pair of jeans forever.  When the knees got ripped out I made 'cut-off' shorts with the carefully frayed legs.

I think I am now at the point in life that I don't care how blue jeans make my butt look.  I just want them to be comfortable. I am now the sort of person who would never iron a pair of blue jeans. 

I know all about the myriad of choices in blue jeans and the astronomical prices that people pay for style.  I like to balance this with the knowledge that you can buy used blue jeans by the container for as low as thirty cents a pair.  You need to buy ten thousand pairs at a time, but eventually it would pay off.  Either way, I'm not into investing in jeans.

I have avoided shopping for jeans because I know there are too many choices.  Blue jeans should not require a lot of consideration.  You pull them on and they fit or they don't.  That's as close as a philosophy as I have about denim.

I like my blue jeans to fit so that I am not aware of them.  Other than when I go to put my hands in my pockets, then they need to provide some structure.  My wallet needs to slide in and out of the back left pocket without buttons or flaps or Velcro to mess with.  I'm not interested in buttons on my fly or epaulettes or criss-crossed belt loops.  I don't care what the cuffs do when they hit my shoes. 

I'll go along with the little pocket that you might put your coins in but never do.

I bought a pair of jeans that seem about my shape.  Without standing up and walking to the mirror I couldn't tell you if they are Lee or Levi's.  These jeans are 'relaxed fit'.  Not so relaxed that you would know my brand of underwear.  Just relaxed on me. 

I can nap in these.  I can get on my knees to check the pressure in my tires.  I can put a screwdriver in the back pocket.  If I have to, I'll put on a clean shirt and wear my jeans to a restaurant or to your house for a party.  I won't hang them on a hangar. If they are wrinkled from where I rolled them up to put them away, I'll try to be more amusing when people meet me so they won't notice how rumpled I am.  Wrinkle compensation.

A good pair of blue jeans can be like good friends.  They can be hard to find.  They age with you.  They feel good when they are finally broken in and comfortable.  They are reliable and stay with you a long time.  They are easy to take for granted when you think you are surrounded by them.  

Hope this finds you forever in blue jeans,        

David

Copyright (c) 2008 David Smith