boyfriend jeans, the sequel

Last year I briefly owned a pair of the most perfect boyfriend jeans. Slouchy, faded, hole-y. I even wrote an elegy to them last fall.

Sick of my wistful jean pajama reminisces, my BFF Jill gave me a pair of hers that didn’t fit right. After some basic YouTube research, I gathered some implements to distress them. Who knew it was so easy!! To distress/rip jeans, you can use any of the following:

• microplane
• hand-held cheese grater
• nail file
• pumice stone
• sandpaper

I owned everything above besides the sandpaper and I found the microplane did the best job. I zested those jeans like they were an orange until the white threaded part showed through. I scuffed them up near the pockets and on the mid-thigh area. Not bad for a fifteen-minute hack job, and I think they’ll look even better after I wash them.

Believe: I’m going to wear the hell out of them throughout the fall and never never lose sight of them again.

Endnote: Slouchy cropped boyfriend jeans are exactly the kind of pant that small-stature women are advised NOT to wear. I say eff that. I’ve been thinking a lot about style lately, and the rules we follow and ideals we strive for (or, rather, the ideals women’s magazines/media dictate). I find the notion that one must always dress to enhance their length/tallness problematic. I suppose evolutionarily speaking, taller humans survived and thrived over their shorter stature counterparts, but that hardly seems relevant today. Once again I’m reminded that aesthetic & fashion, like everything else, is largely constructed and—I’d argue—should be critically reexamined.

Hence: slouchy boyfriend cropped jeans with flats on this 4’11 frame.

My car is in the shop yet again and today I’m housebound, reading, putting together my fall class assignments,  drinking too much coffee, and contemplating homemade donuts. I’m back on the Pomodoro Technique and today my goal is 10 tomatoes.

 

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