Guest Post ~ For the Love of Jean ~ By Susan Kyte

Let me tell you about my jeans. Not my genes. My jeans. My denim, button-fly, boot cut, wide belt loop Levis. They are truly a thing of beauty. They defy trends. I was aghast when I heard murmurs of the skinny jean getting cut from the fashion rotation. Not because I have a love of denim as a second skin, but I didn’t know there was a rotation from which to be removed. Sure, I realize bell bottoms were there in their billowing grandeur and have peeked back into view disguised as all sorts of varied leg options, but my jeans aren’t that aware. Others might see my jeans, Jean I like to call her, and see just another pair of old, out of style, slightly off-wash denim. They would be wrong. Jean is perfection.

One would think the owner of said jeans would be wearing them. After all, I saw/was exposed to the Levis Brooke Shields’ advertisement of the 1980s.  The grossly inappropriate and should have been illegal commercial suggests nothing comes between her and her jeans. The law maybe should have and morality, but the point being I should wear my jeans. In fact, I should be wearing them right now. Not in a weird sexual way as the commercial suggests. I wouldn’t misuse Jean.  And certainly wear some underwear. Something solid and reliable. Not a panty or a dainty. No thong for goodness sakes. A well constructed forgiving brief. A hipster. A bikini bottom of substantial substance if you are feeling racy. Wearing an undergarment that provides support, preferably physically, emotionally and financially, if possible, is necessary for denim wear.  This is essential advice that needs to be passed down from one woman to another. Sorry, Brooke, so many people let you down.

Alas despite my sound underwear, I’m not wearing jeans. I’ve opted for leggings. Black, goes with anything, high rise, could be layered, leggings. My jeans sit upstairs left forlornly possibly dreaming of their younger years when they saw the light of day. They were a good jean. Dependable, ready at a moment’s notice after being dropped casually on the floor the night before. Didn’t need a wash after each wear to reshape. Didn’t require a second of reflection of what matched. What doesn’t go with jeans? It could be dressed up, dressed down. It was ready. Now times have changed. 

While overused, it’s true. It’s not you, Jean, it’s me. I have changed. I’m a leggings and jogger woman now. I still love you and always will, but we’ve grown apart. I know I should let you go. Give you your freedom to find another but I’m having trouble moving on. I keep thinking of those days when you and my waist would get together. Remember belts? Remember sitting with belts when they didn’t cut you in two? It’s a difficult memory to let go. Remember when we’d laugh when I wore you with a solid runner? Youth forgave us. Remember when I put a high heeled boot with you? Now we could go out! How we danced! No worry of a split, a chafe or anything escaping. We were just happy to be together.

Now I own four pairs of joggers that are exactly the same except for color. Well shade really. Two greys, a black and a navy blue. The navy blue are for my daring days. I have to watch it though. If the sun catches just at the right angle people will see they aren’t black and it could really take someone unawares. It’s a lot. All that potential athletic ability wrapped up in yards of cotton. Expansive waistline, flirtingly cut closer to the skin near the bottom, the slightly sagging extra material in the butt. I wouldn’t want to cause a traffic accident is all I’m saying. That and my slightly dingy runners that are really walkers. A vision.

Who am I kidding? I miss you, Jean.

BIO

Susan Kyte is originally from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, but currently lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband, children, two dogs, cat and her joggers, of course. She is a high school teacher by training but currently is a full time mother of four who enjoys writing whenever she has the time and the idea.