It’s impossible to buy jeans these days, all thanks to fashion – which ruins everything in my opinion. As someone who spends 95% of their time in pyjamas, I’m all about comfort. Due to recent life changes which have led to me spending an awful lot of time sitting down at a desk, I have ripped through the rear seam of one pair of jeans, and burst the top button off the other.
It’s worth adding that both pairs of jeans are about 5 years old, and have been deteriorating for some time now. I have a bit of a thing where I grow very attached to comfortable clothes – combine that with generally being a bit of a hoarder and you’ve essentially got someone who dresses in clothes that are barely holding themselves together. As an example, check out my “blue” Converse trainers…
When the ripped-up-the-butt jeans first ripped up the butt, I can’t say that I wasn’t disappointed. Nor can I say that I immediately threw them in the bin, or attempted some sort of a repair.
What I actually did was continue to wear them until the severity of the situation increased. I have, unfortunately, now reached that moment.
It’s recently become very cold and windy, and according to someone who watches the news/weather forecast, it’s going to get even colder and probably start snowing soon. This means that when I now wear my ripped-up-the-butt jeans outside certain ‘places’ get a little drafty.
So I resorted to wearing the jeans without a button. This worked for a while – no wintery drafts tickling my inner thighs when I’m wandering around and such stuff. But it did present me with another problem whereby my jeans, every so often, slipped off my hips and hung precariously around my bottom prompting the inevitable worry that they will continue slipping until they fall down around my ankles.
It is possibly time for me to think about buying myself some new jeans. For most people, this would not be a problem. This is because most people have a) money to buy jeans and b) a sense of style. I am not one of those people. And also, I hate clothes shopping.
I like a pair of jeans that are the exact same weight, shape and consistency (?) of my pyjamas. I like baggy jeans. I like baggy, non figure-hugging jeans that I can slouch around in and eat pies without feeling like my thighs are going to burst out of the denim and I have to undo the top button to feel comfortable while I digest aforementioned pies. I need the kind of jeans that lend themselves to my ‘sitting down’ lifestyle. The kind of jeans I used to wear when I also used to listen to pop-punk. The kind of jeans that will prompt my Mum to ask me if I’m ‘a little old now to be wearing those kind of jeans’.
Sadly, current fashion dictates that there is only one pair of jeans available in shops: skinny.
Skinny jeans. Skinny, emo, hipster jeans. Skinny, uncomfortable, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination, have-to-catapult-yourself-into-them jeans.
Worse still, all shops seem to pretend that they sell different kind of jeans by calling them different (stupid) names: skinny, super-skinny, leggings, jeggings, regular, high-waist, flare, boot-cut and EVEN spray-on. Stylish folk will argue that there are differences between the styles, but those people are wrong. Because the only difference is the name. All these jeans are tight around the bum and thighs and stomach. I want all-round baggy jeans – baggy waist, baggy around the thighs and calves and ankles. A denim sack is essentially what I’m after.
I did discover, however, one style which might suit me: “boyfriend”.
I’m not sure what the name is trying to insinuate, I’d be happier if they were just called “lazy” or “not stylish” or “normally dresses like a hobo” or something. Anyway, despite the name, they’re impossible to find because apparently, no one but me wants to wear comfy, baggy, slouch-about-the-house jeans.
Last week, during my quest for comfy jeans, I found myself straying into the maternity section, casually perusing baggy jeans with elasticated waist-bands. I momentarily considered making the purchase, but couldn’t go through with it (probably because I’d feel like the assistant would know that I wasn’t actually pregnant – just buying maternity jeans so I could comfortably eat my way through the festive season).
As my quest continues, I’ve resolved to wear only pyjamas and jogging pants (which, in no way, will be used for the actual purpose of jogging) until the fabled jeans have been found. Essentially, what I’m saying is: I no longer own clothes that are suitable to wear outside the house.
Consequently, I’m not going outside until suitable jeans have been purchased.