Wednesday, February 4, 2009
For Never was a Story of More Woe, Than When your Favorite Jeans Meet their Foe
The question d'jour is: can you pull off ripped jeans outside of a Nirvana concert circa 1993?
My favorite jeans were already worn out when I bought them at a consignment shop in the suburbs of Boston 4 years ago. They were hanging on a $10 rack and I tried them on a whim. They fit like butter, were more comfortable than pajama pants, and (perhaps most importantly) gave me a cute butt. I wore them everywhere and with everything- with heels Friday night and with plain cotton tee shirts at Sunday brunch.
When my jeans started to rip at the knees, I called Bebe's customer service and read them the style number. Of course, they had been discontinued since their original release date (they dated them way older than I would have guessed: December 2004*).
I still wear them because they're so incredibly perfect, but I scoure eBay desperately searching for a duplicate pristine pair. They've become my Holy Grail. In the meantime, I suppose that I should just hope that torn up jeans swing back into style with the upcoming '90s grunge revival. Hey, it happened with Buffalo plaid. . .
*I should have known that they were that old- I can't remember seeing a pair of jeans from Bebe without rhinestones, glitter, and/or that awful gold thread that even Liberace would think were tacky.