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The Fabulous World Of Mom Jeans
Jeans, Jeans, We All Scream At Mom Jeans! Before I begin I must say I am not a Mom Jean expert. But through talks I've had with friends and co-workers I found out how easy it was to gravitate to wearing the despised Mom Jeans. We didn't start out wanting to wear them. Somehow we just ended up in this position.
Yes maybe we have lost former selves somewhere in between having kids and gaining weight but we still know how to act like we have some sort of shape when we go out with our boyfriends and husbands. Which is why many of us have huge collections of cute jeans. We buy the types of jeans that will make us look good even if we feel terrible. But we also have a small amount of mom jeans that we wear only when it is extremely necessary and only people closest to us will ever know about. Somehow I thought mom jeans were all gone. I thought they had gone away after first burning in a massive pile the middle of some field years ago. I had fantasies that they had gone away as all those disco records had on the field of the old Comiskey Park which they used to blow up all those irritating disco records in the late seventies. But it wasn't to be. Instead these pants ended up in places befitting such hideous clothing-your local thrift stores. They have a plentiful supply of the high waist, long crotch, slack and baggy butt, and even elastic band jeans. Some of you may have a few pairs stashed away at the bottom of your dresser for times when you want to get away from your fashionable hip hugging, low rise jeans that make the guys say whooo-ah when you walk by them, and wear something a little more hideous just for comfort.
For the first time in history I am the owner of three pairs and have now joined the small group of women who are holding a few of these ugly pairs of jeans hostage in our closets. The Mom Jeans Repository-The Thrift Store I'm talking about the motherload here folks. There are racks inside these thrift stores that are just oozing with creature comforts like mom jeans. There are rows and rows of them-all types of sizes, and God knows how many color choices. All waiting for someone to take them out of that store and make them a part of their wardrobe. That's where I come in. I wanted to give them a good home so I bought some.
Why?
Because when I saw that my husband consistently wore "dad jeans" without a care in the world I knew that it was time to break free (in private and without public scrutiny) of my binds that kept me free from being comfortable.
Okay so we revolted against high heels-for a while anyway. We walked or drove to work in our fashionable business attire but our feet were adorned in sneakers. At work we tucked our high heels under our desks and pulled out a nice pair of running shoes smiling as we slipped them on. Yet we refuse to wear mom jeans even when no one is watching though we know how comfortable and practical they can be.
However, I went there because I wanted the mom jeans that I had previously discarded and given away. I just wanted a few pairs of pants nothing more. Taking A Break By Wearing Ugly Mom Jeans I had to escape and do what no sensible thirty something mother would ever dream of doing. I had to get some mom jeans. I had to be free if only to stroll around my house, backyard and walk to the mailbox and back. I tried to wear the cute pants to do my rituals such as playing with the kids, house cleaning, yard work, and everything in between but it didn't work.
I could've bought some regular jeans at the department store but at a whopping $1.25 a pair I knew I couldn't go wrong with these hideous pants. I just didn't want to ruin my nicer jeans. Nope not me. Pre-motherhood I would go out and buy jeans ranging anywhere between $50 and $200 dollars a pair. These weren't the type of jeans I wanted to wear when I was home and doing messy stuff like painting and rolling around in the yard with my kids.
I became tired of feeling uncomfortable at home with my butt being smooshed in a pair of cute stretchy hip hugging, flared leg denims, and a kicky belt with diamond studs wrapped around my waist and stomach which has now developed quite a paunch. I became tired of taking time to choose my underwear so that I didn't have a t-bar crossing the back of my butt or a pair of regular panties showing from the backside. I wanted to just dig in my drawer and pull out a pair of big bloomers that said I just want to relax today and then get out a pair of some high waist, stone washed, baggy in the front and back pair of mom jeans.
I've learned to deal with this duality quite well. It's almost like Clark Kent and Superman. When I'm out and about I'm Mrs. Trendy Jeans but on my time I'm Mrs. Mom Jeans. This works out for me just fine. However there have been times when I have forgotten to change into my Mrs. Trendy pants and to save time I have worn mom jeans in public. I get these questioning looks that say, "Haven't those jeans been banned for life?"
I laugh thinking of the first time I took those pants out of that thrift store bag and my husband said, "Now you're bringing contraband in the house?"
The United Nations have not sanctioned them. But you would think they did.
The weird thing is I haven't seen this much of an uproar about Dad Jeans.
You know the jeans' men wear when they stop being fashionable and start being real. Oooooookay I GET IT Already! I understood this major article about mom jeans when I read it...and all the articles before and after that one. However, but I wonder why is it has become this big deal. I can't understand why mom jeans are one of the most hated pieces of clothing in a woman's closet. Although I acknowledge that they are hideous. But back to my original point why hasn't this hatred been applied to Dad Jeans? We all know what they look like. They're the jeans that seem to slide down under a man's belly and somehow wrap around the middle of a man's butt. But then they're men. They can wear Dad Jeans and get away with it. So I will continue to wear my Mom Jeans in private of course and enjoy refuge until there's another day or night out on the town. |
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