Tuesday, February 17, 2009


When I was younger, I don't remember how old I was exactly, let's say...fourth grade, I decided jeans with holes in the knee were the coolest things ever. My jeans did not have holes though, and so I cut holes in them. That didn't look right though, so it was sort of a letdown. No one even noticed, I went home with a whole story planned to explain how my jeans came to be ruined, but my parents didn't even realize I had cut them. I don't know if I was expecting them to exclaim at how bitchin my jeans looked, or yell at me, but I ended up telling them that I fell and tore my jeans without getting as much as a scratch on my knee. Weirdly enough, they didn't buy it, and my grandmother took matters into her own hands by turning the jeans into cutoff shorts, which didn't actually make them any less ruined. I still have a pair of hole in the knee jeans that I like to wear sometimes, but only because they have a lot of sentimental value. Emily and I fought long and hard over who they belonged to before my mom ruled that I could have them on the basis of my wearing them on my first date with That Guy. When I came to Smith I brought the jeans, but I also brought some tight party jeans, and some normal jeans to wear every day like a cartoon character. My party jeans were pretty old, and from Delias which is known for crappy pantsmanship, but I was still deeply annoyed when I split the knee out, as it meant my pants supply was getting dangerously grunge.
I still had my trusty every day jeans though, and so I didn't take any drastic measures like going to the store. Until today. I was chalking for my Invisible Children interest meeting, and I split the knee of my beloved jeans. They were totally basic, unremarkable even, but I was complimented on them on multiple occasions. I feel naked now that they are gone, even though I am obviously wearing other pants and am not actually naked. I don't have class on Friday, so I'm going to take the PVTA to Old Navy and buy some new pants, but they will be like the puppy those kids get after they have to shoot Old Yeller. It just won't be the same. I'm listening to the Weepies song "The World Spins Madly On", not for my pants really, but I think it's sort of funny that I'm playing this sad song about things changing while I blog about jeans.
Tonight at rugby I realized that I associate the word "try zone" with "Marco". I think this is hilarious, not in part because I bet Marco would think it was pretty funny too. Also, just for the "what the heck??!" factor. I've been playing rugby for years, but somehow Marco is so in my head he is associated with the ultimate goal of the sport I love. It isn't because I still like him, I got over that a while ago, but he's a great rugby player, and he does score a lot of tries. I feel like this isn't the right audience to be as amused my this as I think it deserves, but I don't know what that audience would be.


  1. I'm sorry about your jeans, darling, but hope their demise is worth it in the end with a solid club meeting.

    But I sort of like the image of you besmirched with chalk, a tear in your jeans, wandering around Smith.

  2. When I saw the title of this post, despite the picture, the first thing to spring to mind is the British slang expression, "pants", used to label something as uncool or lame or not the bomb, e.g., "that girl's torn jeans are so pants."