Fashionable Surrender

I've been hanging onto the same pair of jeans for sometime now, almost two years. Back then I was training for a marathon, something that fell into my lap really, which I agreed to with a shrug and a "Why not?" (Now, I can give you a reason why not. Two words—mile twenty-two.) Due to the training, I lost weight. I began to find my pants a tad baggy in the ass region, and I discovered an accesory known as a belt. So I bought new clothes, including my beloved jeans.

I was introduced to American Eagle (AE) by a metrosexual friend where I found comfortable, soft jeans—jeans that already seemed to have been washed twenty times. What a job to have! Imagine all the reading you could get done as you only have to take minimal breaks to turn the dial back and pull to start another cycle. When I first perused their jeans selection, I took a chance and went with the Worker jean. These were loose through the leg, comfortable around the waist. I had found that my training helped cut my waist size down by 24 half-inches! The jeans were already a faded jean blue, not to the point that's verging on white, mind you. They were loose around the ankle, making them perfect for wearing with boots or my Adidas or sandals, if I wanted the laid back, easy-going look. Most importantly, the jeans came with a handy loop on the left pant leg through which I could hang my hammer or mallet. There was even a small pocket for my tools. My socket wrench fit perfectly in there. These jeans became my favorite.

Time passed, along with the marathon and my now occasional running, but I found I still lost weight over this time. I was shrinking, wasting away, all the way down to a waist 32 (one inch less than before). New jeans were needed. I went back to AE to find replacement jeans of the worker variety. Their selection in this style had changed. No longer available was my preferred faded jean blue (which apparently is dubbed Faded Whisker Wash). All they had was a dark blue with adobe-colored fading over the legs. They looked as if they'd been tied to the end of a truck and dragged along a dirt road. I've noticed over time that guys' jeans have ventured into this filthy style that has already run rampant through the ladies'. I scanned the jeans and found more that looked torn, frayed or ragged, as well as if they had a roll in mud before being dried off, tagged and priced, and fitted with that # x # sticker to run down the side. I figured I could wait longer until that style went out and AE went back to the popular Faded Whisker Wash.

After stopping by numerous times and finding that styles had not changed, I decided to go through with changing my style of jeans. But I didn't want my jeans to look like I slid into home plate. I found my Faded Whisker Wash style in regular loose fitting jeans, but they were pre-tattered. Little tears along the thigh. I don't want people to see my leg hair. I want my clothes to clothe me. I'm of the persuasion that likes to do his own tattering and tearing, his own wearing-in process. Now, jeans are ready to go, accompanying guys and their bright colored T-ball caps worn off-kilter, wearing faded, thinning shirts that claim they've been to Hemet, California. I scanned the display of jeans up on the wall before me. Dragged through dirt. Dragged through a lakebed. Dragged through a copper mine (non-oxidized). Dragged through gravel with someone wearing them. I was annoyed by this. I just wanted my Faded Whisker Wash!

So I settled. I gave in. I now wear jeans that looked like I was playing with kids in a sandbox ("Don't ask," I tell the parents), a light, faded tan over the pant legs. I sadly must leave my hammer at home. My Phillips and flathead will no longer join me when I teach. But my good old faded blue jeans await the day that too many In-N-Out burgers and the nagging box of Popems return me to waist thirty-three.