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The Jean-ing of Life

A couple of nights ago, I went to a jeans party. You’ve heard of Tupperware parties and Pampered Chef parties and jewelry parties and “toy” parties — mere child’s play, indeed. This was a no-nonsense, grown-up gathering of women who could have done many things with their evening that night. They could have read books, waxed philosophical about waxing, painted their toes, watched “Jersey Shore” in secret. Yet they prioritized fashion and bargain-hunting in the most serious context possible: denim. Because that’s the kind of women they are. That’s the kind of women I are, too.

My goal was simple, straightforward and teal: colored jeans for spring. I think if someone were to inform me that jewel-tone jeans (including chartreuse!) would be all the rage in Spring of 2012, I would have packed up and moved to Amish country. It all would have been too much. With the advent of the Capri pant circa 1998 when I was in my junior year of high school, I almost wept at the thought of wearing a pant that could not be classified as a pant, nor as a short nor as a skirt. It was the manna of clothing, the what-is-it of a gender-confused wardrobe, and I didn’t have the faith to partake until college. (I still wake up in cold sweats over skinny jeans too, but that’s occurring less and less. Habit dulls the senses, as well as the elastic.)

I have known the colored jean was in my future for a while now, like when you know that this slightly embarrassing guy is destined to be your boyfriend but you haven’t yet admitted it to the world. My friend’s party was a chance to face up to my destiny in a small, controlled environment, and hopefully get a good deal too, because there was no way in Hades Gordon would approve of me dropping $200 on a pair of neon pants. Owning more than one pair of jeans is hard enough for him to comprehend.

After the party, my friend Schuyler and I were discussing how jeans have become the uniform of women everywhere, even at work. Eight years ago, “jean Fridays” were, like, a thing; and that thing has spread to the other days of the week like a beautiful, convenient cancer that is flattering to booties the working world over. This has liberated jeans a great deal from the four standard GAP delineations into all kinds of new, expensive possibilities. I’m actually hearing lore that floral jeans are making a comeback, but my allergic sensitivity to 1990 is currently off the charts, along with the pollen count.

I am happy to announce I came away from the jean party the proud owner of said teal jeans. It was the only pair in any color (surprising!), and a size down from mine, yet they FIT. I might have bought them just for that. The brand is Christopher Blue, which I’ve never worn before. My go-to brand these days, at least after childbirth and my subsequent liquification, has been Citizens of Humanity and Hudson. But I believe that Chris is up to the task of keeping in check the junkathon that has been taking place in my rear end since late 2007. Don’t let me down, Chris. Don’t let me down.

I’ve been scouring the Internet for the past 30 minutes looking for the exact pair of jeans I bought so you may commence cyber-coveting, but I couldn’t track them down. So here’s the cut of the jean and a separate pic of the jean color. It will be up to you to mind-meld them into a single spring jean. I’m also interested in what top you would pair with it. I’m thinking, white? Natural?

Hey, this fashion blogging stuff is fun. (Until swimsuit season, of course.)

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