Blue Jean Blues

Breaking up with blue jeans for the foreseeable future. I’ll miss you – not really.

By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

Remember when we were teenagers, and we purposely bought jeans a size too small? We would lie down on our beds to zip them up and then do squats to get them to “stretch.” And if we had trouble getting a particularly stubborn pair on, one of our girlfriends lent a hand and did the zipping part while we held the button together. It was a team effort. Let me just say in my life right now, it’s deja vu when it comes to jeans – only I’m not a teenager, and my relationship with jeans right now is not working out so well.

The experience of trying to get into jeans post-pandemic is eerily reminiscent of days gone by. But now, here’s the rub: At 55 years young, this laying down on the bed thing doesn’t work anymore. I have broken nails. I have zipped lady parts into said jeans. I have hyperventilated. I have sweated – not glistened as a lady should – straight up sweated. I have definitely seen spots and nearly blacked out. I have taken a nap and woken up only to try again. And yes, it’s likely I did black out and called it a nap. No matter what I try, the me and jeans relationship is just not working right now.

Passed out from over-exertion otherwise known as trying to get your jeans on.

While I can appreciate the benefits associated with a workout to just get into a pair of jeans, the juice just isn’t worth the squeeze for me. To make matters worse, I have jeans in at least five different sizes and styles – a virtual cornucopia of denim. You would think jeans and I could make something work, right? That we cared enough about one another that we could make it work? The law of averages alone should produce at least one relatively decent fitting pair of denim duds so we could rekindle our relationship.

At this point, I’m just breaking up with jeans. We tried. We gave it a valiant effort – jeans and I. We tried multiple cuts, fits and sizes. We did retro; we did new. We did boot cut; we did curvy. We laugh, we cried, we cursed. Jeans and I – as a couple – are simply beyond repair. Some relationships just aren’t meant to be. So now it’s time. I’m moving on – sticking to a better-suited relationship. It’s me and Spandex for the win. Leggings just don’t let you down; they grow with you. And isn’t that what we all need? A healthy, flexible relationship – one that will grow with us?

See y’all next week – on the porch