The year was 1853... I have no idea what date it was, and it doesn't really matter. A 24 year old German immigrant left New York for San Francisco to chase a dream. Young people were evidently much more entrepreneurial and adventurous than they are now. The young man set out with some canvas to sell as tents and wagon covers but found that the farm workers and miners in San Francisco had more pressing needs... like pants. And young Levi Strauss used the canvas to make overalls. That, ladies and gentlemen, was how jeans were born.
Of late, I have been reading blog posts addressed to men. You know the kind where in the first paragraph the blogger asks any women reading to please vacate the site before HE proceeds to babble on about a topic that the fairer sex is better versed in anyway. Yes, even if the topic has something to do with manhood, we are still equally if not better equipped to discuss it. So today I decided to write a post that will make the darker (I am assuming that is the appropriate opposite of ‘fairer’ to use here.) sex uncomfortable... and no, it has nothing to do with tampons. This post is about jeans... a woman and her pair(s) of jeans.
Those crude things that Levi fashioned from canvas eventually took over the world. They went from garments that were only worn by manual laborers and were generally banned in respectable places like restaurants and cinema halls to a fashion statement that is pulled off by everyone everywhere. In fact, that’s the beauty of jeans. They can be worn by anyone, and if worn right, they can make all the difference.
I firmly believe that every woman/girl has THAT PAIR of jeans. The one you knew you belonged with the first time you laid eyes on it. THAT PAIR with perfect stitches and smooth fabric... Strong enough to survive all those ‘excursions’ yet soft to the skin. THAT PAIR that fit just right and brought out just enough of all the right features. THAT PAIR that has seen it all.
I have such a pair of jeans. A blue skinny that I bought at eNGARAsha. I was laundering it earlier today when I got thinking of how much we've been through together... me and my jeans. It’s the one pair I instinctively reach out for whenever I need my moods lifted. This may sound absurd but it’s true: that pair is my very own ‘travelling pants’. No matter what size I get, it still fits just right.
I have been told that I am overly sentimental, with a tendency to hold on to insignificant things like really old journals, letters and photos. I also have an unhealthy relationship with my phone and laptop. I suppose you can add my jeans to that list too. All the same, here’s to insignificant little things that make all the difference. For you it might not be a pair of jeans (though I wonder how the hell not)... but whatever garment it is, wear it with love and take time to feel absolutely beautiful in it.
The men can now stop pretending to be gagging and admit that they too have that special pair of pants, or shirt, or even suit.
Jeans represent democracy in fashion.
Blue jeans are the most beautiful things since the gondola.