Holy Cow, They’re Holey Jeans (7-2003)

Nobody could ever accuse me of being a slave to fashion. I 
decide what to wear based primarily on comfort, within the 
bounds of what is appropriate for whatever venues my day 
may include. Fortunately, for work I get to dress in 
“business casual” attire, so I don’t own many ties.

I didn’t even own a pair of jeans until about a month or so 
ago. I hadn’t worn jeans since I was a teen-age, and I 
don’t think I wore them much then.

But, after months of listening to my daughter lament the 
fact that I didn’t dress “cool” enough, I finally gave in 
and decided to buy one pair. Surprisingly, they were not as 
I remembered.

My memories of blue jeans were of dark blue, tight-fitting, 
stiff-as-cardboard, denim with front pockets that were so 
small and tight that it would be tough to put a set of car 
keys in them without making a permanent dimple in my upper 
thigh. Fortunately, the jeans I bought felt like they had 
already been washed a few times. They were rather soft, 
slightly faded, and the front pockets were deep and 
spacious.

But the denim material is still too heavy for my taste. 
I’ll wear them occasionally, but I still prefer my casual 
slacks. For me, they strike just the right balance between 
dressing up and dressing down.

But speaking of dressing down, no longer does anyone have 
to wait for months or years before his old jeans finally 
wear out before they can dress down. You can buy brand new 
designer jeans that are already worn, tattered, stained, 
and torn apart.

I was browsing Circle Center Mall the other day when I 
happened to walk into Abercrombie and Fitch. The first 
thing I noticed was that most of their shirts and jackets 
that were hanging on the racks were in desperate need of 
ironing. Even many of their pants looked like they had been 
left in the dryer for weeks.

Then I saw something that I still can’t believe. I saw a 
rack full of jeans that had a large hole over one knee, 
with threads hanging down from it. The hole covered the 
entire right knee. There were several small tears and rips 
over the entire length of both legs. The hip region had a 
couple of fairly large tears with flaps of material hanging 
down and there were bleach stains along the top. The 
material was severely faded and thin. They didn’t look as 
though they could survive another wearing.

But the real shocker was the price tag. I paid just over 30 
bucks for my jeans, because I didn’t know if I would like 
them enough to wear them regularly. But even the expensive 
jeans weren’t much over about 50 dollars. The torn and 
tattered jeans at Abercrombie and Fitch were selling for 
just shy of 100 dollars! 

I thought it had to be a joke. But I was wrong. The 
salesman said the jeans had been selling pretty well.

Ok, so now it’s official. Americans will buy anything that 
is for sale – anything. All you have to do is attach a 
brand name to it, one that has earned a “cool” reputation, 
and you can peddle tattered old worn-out jeans for 100 
dollars a pop in a fancy mall. The same jeans wouldn’t 
bring 25 cents at a yard sale.

If wearing tattered pants is the look you’re going for, you 
can get them without having to shell out big bucks. Buy 
some old jeans at Goodwill, dribble some bleach on them, 
and rip your own holes.

The idea ranks right up there with pet rocks and bottled 
tap water that people will pay two bucks a bottle for 
simply because Pepsi or Coke put a fancy brand name on it.

I guess what really ticks me off more than knowing people 
will buy anything is that I didn’t think to sell it first. 
Hey – anyone want to buy a slightly used handkerchief for, 
say, 20 bucks?