All I Want for Christmas Are Some Jeans That Fit
by Cindy Phillips
I did it again. I spent hours going from store to store, convinced I could find them. I must have tried on a hundred pairs of jeans, putting on one leg and then the other; shimmying like a harlot as I tugged them up toward my waist.
A few times, I actually thought I was going to make it, only to be disappointed as the material ran out, even though my backside kept going. Why can’t I find a pair of jeans that fit?
Jeans for Boomers
We Boomers invented the perfect jeans. We made them popular. We made them a household name. We faded them, acid-washed them, colored them, added stretch to them, cut them into shorts and frayed their bottoms. We paired them with T-shirts, crewneck sweaters, button-down white-collared shirts, tank tops, blazers and sequined satin blouses. We wore them with sneakers, boots, high heels, topsiders and flip flops.
I remember my first pair of jeans. Actually, they were my sister’s first pair of jeans. When I saw them, I was in awe. They were like nothing I had ever seen. When she let me try them on, it was nirvana. Even though she was five years older than I was, those jeans fit each of us like a custom-made glove. But, I didn’t get to wear them often, even though I begged and pleaded on a daily basis.
“Are you wearing the jeans today?” I would ask every morning.
My sister wore those Levi’s several days a week. They were so versatile she could get away with it. Other days, she would tell me that they needed to be washed, but I think she just wanted to keep them for herself and, looking back, I can’t blame her.
Jeans That Fit
As I prepared to go off to college, my mother took me shopping for clothes. By this time, I had my own jeans and I knew exactly what I needed: the Levi’s with the red tag. You didn’t have to try them on; you simply looked for your size, waist times length, and took them to the checkout. Every pair fit the same.
Of course, I needed some tops. I bought baby-doll shirts in several colors and prints, two pairs of buffalo sandals and one pair of desert boots. A quick visit to the Danskin store for leotards in every color, and I was good to go. (If you were handy with a needle and thread, you could ruche the leotard right at the cleavage point for a coyly, sexy effect.)
I Wore Jeans Every Day
I had three pairs of those Levi’s when I was in college and I rotated them every day. You could get at least two wearings from each pair and then it was time to throw them into the washer and dryer. It’s not that they were dirty, but you needed to tighten them up.
I can still recall a few times that I ran out with the waistband still damp, because they hadn’t completely dried before it was time for my date. But, there was no better feeling in the world than slipping on those warm Levi’s straight out of the dryer. Each time, they slid like lotion over your legs. Sometimes, while struggling with the freshman five, you had to lie on the bed to get them zipped up. But, once you closed that top button and stood up, the view from the back was exquisite.
And then, something went terribly wrong. Those jeans that we had loved and revered all those years rebelled. They started going by names like True Religion and Jordache. And, for some totally unexplainable reason, they decided to come to a complete halt when they got halfway up your butt. Who could possibly think this would be comfortable for a Boomer body that was already struggling with self-image issues? Who could possibly think this would look attractive on a bulging Boomer belly? Who came up with this ridiculous idea?
What Happened to Jeans for Women?
Not only do I now have a love-hate relationship with every pair of jeans I own, but I am also experiencing relationship issues with all my shirts and sweaters.
“Pick me! Wear me today,” they call out from the closet.
And, it is disheartening to have to look at them and say, “No, I can’t wear you today; you simply aren’t long enough to cover the chasm from where my jeans end and you begin.” It’s a crying shame and I miss those tops, not to mention the useless array of belts I used to wear.
It’s time for Boomers to start up a better jeans company and design denim that actually fits our ever-changing bodies. I have the perfect name for the line – C.Y.A. Jeans. Any takers?
More About Cindy Phillips:
Contact Cindy at email@example.com.
Read Cindy's blog at Life as a Turkey Sandwich
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