Forever In Blue Jeans

It's time for a couple of pair of new jeans. No, the ones at left are not the ones I'm currently wearing. They are out of my private clothing museum. I'm an absolute pack rat when it comes to clothing, some clothing holds more memories for me than a photograph ever possibly could. The pair at left were not only the last pair of my 20's, they were also my last 34 waist. (My tailor insists that I am currently a 38, however, I am having papers drawn up to have him committed). I can't even describe the places those jeans went with me. They would go on long walks with me and Reno. They travelled almost every back road in North America. They were washed in the mighty Mississippi, and dried on the isolated beaches of Baja. I was wearing them when I found love, and I was wearing them when I lost it.



I've always looked at those jeans as my emotional portrait of Dorian Gray. Instead of me holding everything inside, rather than letting my fears and loneliness take control of what was happening to me, the jeans would take one for the team, and would slowly fade and age. I look at every one of those rips as a wrinkle on my face or a scar on my heart.


I only wear Gaps. 1969's to be exact, the year of my birth. The most comfortable jeans in the world. Especially compared to the Toughskins my mom forced me to wear in the '70's. She would double patch them on the knees underestimating my destructive power when it came to clothing. None the less, I would be forced to walk like a robot for a week as I worked them in, and on occasion get in a scrap at recess because some kid decided to make fun of me. I seem to recall many times sitting on top of a kid, slapping him silly and yelling "DOUBLE PATCHES AREN'T FUNNY!!"



The 1969's aren't as durable as other jeans, part of the sacrifice that is made for comfort. The fact that one of my nervous twitches is to rub the top of my thighs doesn't help either, as this is where they always start to fade.



My closet is full of clothes and memories. I have shirts that I wore in high school, shirts that I got while travelling, and shirts that I only wore one time so I could fully remember the day. I suppose someday I will have to get rid of them, but I'm not even close to ready.




For example, why would I have this?? It is not a trick picture. The shirt in fact does not have a back or sleeves left. Why do I have it? It was the shirt I wore when Reno and I had "the perfect day."










My bowling league shirt from when I was 4. Now that's a keeper. If I did a full inventory you would probably be shocked, but it's a Sunday so I'll keep you from that.