Unfortunately my own ass looked nothing remotely close to the one here in these Dittos Jeans. Regardless, I loved my pair anyway. They were a powder blue color, and they clung to my hips and thighs as though for dear life, instantly, though possibly painfully, accommodating the various lumps and pouffy places below my waist. I got them in the 7th grade and wore them like a trophy. I didn't have many pairs of jeans; I suppose my mother thought it a money-saving strategy to keep my ever-expanding frame encased in stretchy fabrics. Therefore anything denim in my closet was hard-won and I wore it proudly, if not a bit ponderously. Nonetheless, I fit in with the other kids in that way, and that was important.My first pair of Levi's came home with me from Gap when I was in the 8th grade. They were flared, of course, and constructed of such stiff and unbending fabric, my gait was reminiscent of Frankenstein's creature for the weeks it took to comfortably break them in. The five-pocket look was not truly cool, however, until you had a colorful comb with a big, long handle jutting out of the back pocket. Then, boys could sneak up on you and in one slick move, swipe your comb, stick a tooth into the fold of your Levi's tag and rip it off before you could turn around and bat your eyelashes. It was an honor to have this done to you, a flirtation. (Although it never happened to me, I did get plenty of bra strap snaps. I wonder what would happen today to a boy who came up behind a girl in school, pulled her bra away from her back and let it rip. A sexual harassment suit, I suppose. If only I could have sued for mental anguish and embarrassment every time that happened to me - I'd be a rich woman today and Brian Homer would be living on Skid Row.)
I am now a jean-a-holic. My closet is filled with with them: faded, dark, capris, down-to-the-floor. They are flared, boot-leg, low-rise, medium-rise, designer, cheapie. Even if I swear that I won't even glance in their direction when I enter the mall, I am somehow drawn to them as a ladybug magnet to a fridge.
Madeleine doesn't much like to wear jeans, preferring instead cute sweatpants and light cotton shorts. I guess she didn't get the jean gene.
3 comments:
I loved your Gloria Vanderbilt dark jeans that you wore when you worked at Mertz's. I thought you were the coolest person in the world! Do you know how lucky you were to have those? If you had them today I would still be so jealous. You were my idol and so pretty. I secretly wanted to be you with those Gloria Vanderbilts.
tee hee hee I finally told you.
Ahh...I remember the heady days of bell bottoms and jeans that started out dark blue, back before the stone-washing craze.
Now, what about the double belt that
accessorized those jeans?!??
I share the love of jeans as well. Who could forget Calvin Kleinfeld...
Also, in high school, usually the only way to put on just washed,super straight leg jeans was to lay down on the bed to get that zipper up!!
Post a Comment