change . . .

As I approach my 60's, things change: styles change . . . body's change . . . attitudes change. I'm talking about blue jeans, the mainstay of my closet for now well over 50 years. I am the definition of the "barefoot and blue jeans kid". In the 50's my jeans were flannel lined, rolled up to make a cuff until I grew into them, in the 60's they had 2.5" zippers, sat on my nonexistent hips, had wide bells and dragged on the ground. In the 70's they were long and lean and tight, worn with heels, (oh how that amused my father), in the 80's I discovered painters pants and took a quick hiatus, in the 90's LLBean won my heart and I stayed in mom jeans for way too long, which of course brings us to the new century and me still in mom jeans.

It was time for a change. My first foray into the modern world of jeans was an eye opener to say the least. My hips are not just no longer nonexistent, they are prominent . . . my derriere which used to perkily follow behind has now dropped a story or two and my thighs now fit that old cliche: thunder. Add a little cellulite and you have the full picture and it is not pretty. Back to the mall . . . the first couple of pairs I tried on went up the legs but put on the brakes at the hip line. Pairs 18 and 19, managed to scale the hips but missed closing around my burgeoning waist by several inches. What had happened to my size 4's? Where did my 6's go? I don't even remember 8's, I think I just shot though to 10. I finally found a pair of size 10's that met the basic requirements until I bent over. OMG, I could give those construction workers whose pants never seem to cover their . . . um . . . cracks, a run for their money. I ran out of the store.

Dragged by my sister-in-law and daughter, we tried again. This time we found a pair that actually fit, pulled off a back shelf, covered in dust by the sales waif who to her credit, did not giggle. By today's standards, they fit. Sort of. They covered everything that needed to be covered, were not grungy and could be worn with heels for all those events I never attend. I bought them. And another pair I found several days later.

But yesterday, Katie and I went to the annual outdoor art show. I love this show and the weather was perfect. Fall has finally hit our neck of the woods. So as I headed for my new jeans, I realized there was no way I walking the show in heels . . . and I wasn't rolling them up. Panic stuck, I tried on my mom jeans . . . still to tight in the waist and miserably uncomfortable. What to do???? I finally dived into my collection and discovered half buried at the bottom, a pair of men's, Levi's jean painter pants . . . they not only fit, they were comfy, they sat on those hips but covered the necessities. Were they stylish . . . NO. Was Katie frantically telling me the new jeans were fine . . . yes. Did she suggest I apply to "What Not To Wear"? Yes. Did I budge? N0. So off we went. Katie in her teeny tiny low cut size miniature jeans and me in my oh so comfortable, oh so outdated jeans and flip flops. Were they perfect for our lunch break of hot dogs and root beer on the grass along the river, you betcha!!!! Am I ever going to change. Probably not. I am a happy camper and intend to stay that way. Now that is attitude!