I’m a jeans girl.
Dark-rinse jeans, faded jeans, skinny jeans, dressy jeans, boot-cut jeans. I have jeans for working outside and jeans for lounging on the couch. There’s even a pair of jeggings that I love but I don’t know that they count.
I’ve always been lackadaisical about the fit – if they feel good, I’m good – but zone in on the length instead. Not all styles of jeans come in various lengths for women. They do for men, because the world is catered to men, but let’s not get into that today. I have been known to stand in the middle of a jeans store and declare loudly, “I can’t shop here. They don’t carry jeans in long lengths.” Then I flip my hair and stalk out and vow never to shop there again. Until they have a huge sale and there I am, snapping up a pair of flares that hit me right at the ankle. No matter – into the boots they go.
I know what you’re thinking: Premium denim, Andrea. Go for the goods. Well, then. Let’s pretend I don’t have hundreds to spend on a pair of lounge-on-the-couch and clean the toilets jeans. Better yet, let me say it a different way: I think it's ridiculous to spend hundreds on a pair of lounge-on-the-couch and clean the toilets jeans.
Because of my affinity for denim pants, I’ve educated myself. I know to stay away from ultra-low rise and conversely, super high waists. I know to run screaming from tapered legs, front patch pockets, wide leg openings, and loose fit for my body type. But the choices are narrowing for me.
Recently I heard that you shouldn’t wear bling on your jeans past age 40. And why not? I have a pair that sports a rhinestone button. It’s always covered by my shirt. Should I really get rid of them? Please tell me I shouldn’t get rid of them. Well, okay. I really only wear them in the winter. I guess I could get a new pair without the sparkles. Into the giveaway pile they go.
What alarms me most is that the back pocket size of jeans is increasing in importance. That if you choose unwisely, your butt will have the unfortunate effect of appearing larger, or square, or long, or lumpy. Okay, I made up that last one. But I am concerned.
Some of the pockets in the backs of my jeans are smaller than others. Will my butt look bigger or smaller if the pocket is big? What if it is small? Will my butt appear Goliath-esque when pitted against a diminutive pocket?
Placement is also key. Wearing a pair of jeans with lower pockets will make your butt look younger. Wearing them with high pockets constitutes [sucking in breath] mom jeans.
When I received this snippet of intel, I rushed to my closet and tried on every last pair of my jeans. They all had high pockets. What fresh hell is this world turning into? I didn’t know that I was unwittingly telling the world that I’m a mom through my jeans pockets. The rules are against me. Against all of us.
I really don’t see a way out of this predicament. I just bought a pair of jeans that were on the fast track to becoming my favorites, the pair I reach for when my day jumps from one thing to the next. Grocery store, dental cleaning, laundry, school pick-up. Who knows where my day might end – I might have to rush out to buy a poster board or drop off a casserole. I need jeans that are with me for the long haul, those that I’m not fantasizing about clawing off my body at 5 pm. In addition, I can't just scrap the collection of jeans that I’ve curated over the years and start all over. I retrieve my rhinestone-encrusted jeans from the thrift store pile and sadly hang them back in my closet.
I’m defeated. Resignation looms.
I’m a mom, and I wear Mom jeans.