You know what I’m talking about, ladies.
I have my lazy weekend lounging jeans that stretch like sweatpants. They’re soft and worn like the sheets I slept on as a little girl. The threads are so thin that they’re likely to separate at any moment. Some already have. Small tears near the corners of my back pockets, frayed foot holes, barely secured belt loops. They’re forgiving around the waist. Easily fold into Indian-style on the crowded carpet on football Saturdays and curl with me on the couch on Sunday afternoons.
I have a work-appropriate pair. Dark denim with every piece still in its original state. Worn with heels so the bottoms never drag. I pull these out of my closet on meeting-free days when I expect to sit at my desk editing videos and coding websites. When I need to be both comfortable and suitable. Paired with sweaters in the winter and polos in the summer.
I have the trendy skinny-legs that are just the right length for my stilettos and easily tuck into my cowboy boots. Worn with equally trendy tunics to sit on the bar stool sipping martinis with my girlfriends. They’re not designed for sneakers or sandals. I have a separate pair for those circumstances. Tossed on with a hoodie for late brunches and quick trips to the grocery store.
In younger days, I’d slip into my play clothes for after school activities like rollerskating and tree-climbing and freeze tag. I still have play pants for hiking, tailgating, grilling out. The jeans that aren’t offended by mud, beer, burger grease.
Then there are the few that have remained at the bottom of the pile for some time. From thinner days, fatter days, “what was I thinking” days (i.e. the pair with diamond studded pockets worn to freshmen frat parties).
And of course, every girl’s gotta have that pair of jeans that hug in all the right places, accentuating our assets and concealing our insecurities. The ones that make us feel as though we look good enough to make a magazine cover. The ones we wear on first dates. And pull out many dates later as a reminder. They’re probably more pricey than the pair for play, but we know that they’re meant to join our wardrobe from the moment we zip them up in the fitting room. Turn, twirl, study our reflection in the mirror. And this is the magic of the perfect pair of jeans.
niggard niggers niggled niggler niggles nighest nighing nightie.
flaky flame flams flamy flank flans
flaps flare. With such segmentation, the store takes on a distinctly unique feel;
a very intimate and homey feeling.