I Love My Jeans
We met on a Tuesday in June, but we didn't become friends until a Saturday in October.
My favorite jeans sat folded on a shelf for four months before I ever wore them.
I'm like that sometimes. It takes me a while to warm up to the new clothes in my closet. My comfort zone is pretty dang comfortable. What seems amazing in the store can turn into uncertainty at home.
So my jeans waited in my closet. At first, it was the heat: jeans during the sweltering summer in Georgia are a strict no-go. Then as temperatures dipped in the fall, I wore every other pair pants around the jeans. Until laundry day, and I had nothing else to wear. It had to be the jeans.
My hands gathered the fabric over my legs, fastened the button, and pulled the zipper closed.
Perfect fit. Not too tight, not too baggy. No annoying gap in the back. Dressy enough to wear to a business casual event, casual enough to wear with sandals and a tee shirt. I've worn them at least twice a week for the last four years.
I've had so many adventures in these jeans:
Cocktail parties. Conferences. A trip to Italy. Art shows in Chicago. Hospital rooms in Georgia. Libraries in Tennessee. Puttering around my house on rainy days.
The end is near, though. I know it. They have rips and tears and are so, so distressed. No longer business-friendly, they are definitely Saturday afternoon casual. But they still feel amazing, so I still love them.
Today I'm wearing them with a gray short sleeve shirt and bare feet, with black sandals set out and ready for when I run errands in an hour or so. My tried and true everyday uniform. My hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and I dabbed on a bit of red lipstick before I sat down to write this. This is my comfort zone, and I'm happy to swim in this lane.
Some Very Wise Person (VWP) will say I shouldn't have an attachment to objects, much less a pair of jeans. And that VWP will be 100% correct. But how is it I keep thinking about how much I'll miss the easy friendship of these jeans, even before they become unwearable?
Maybe the VWP can explain it to me. I'd love to know.
Periwinkle, blue/first friendship
This post is part of a Blogging A To Z series where I write a new, personal story almost every day (except Sundays). The theme is the hidden messages: the language of flowers.
photo: Dolce and Gabbana
