Oh The Fragility Of Jeans!!!

I have this pair of jeans that I really love, its a distressed jean. Just the right shade of blue that I like. What is even more precious about this particular pair is that it actually fits me perfectly. PERFECTLY.

I was blessed with a combination of genetic features from both sides of my parentage so shopping for clothes is usually more of a hustle than anything else. I am relatively small below the waist and on the waist too, however I do have a..... sizable backside. So if I do get a pair of pants that fit me on the waist, it will not fit my bum and if I get one that accommodates my bum it will most definitely be too big round my waist. Cotton conundrums.

These jeans, however, were like a gift from God to tell me there is hope for the future of my pear (or so my mum calls it anyway) shaped body. Anyway back to the jeans, they fit so perfectly I didn't even need to accessorize it with a belt and I could even wear it with small tops and sit down without worrying about whether the people behind me could see the crack of my ass. I could bendova with the best of them, no worries.

I wore these jeans with a fervor that I'm sure made all my other outfits jealous, i wore it to class, to church, to weddings, to clubs.... we had some very good times. Until....one fateful evening I wanted to draw the curtains at home so I was bending my knee in order to get on a chair to reach the curtain top and I heard a RRRIIIIPPP.....it was body numbing for about twenty seconds. My apoplectic shock was palpable to those around. Once I got back my breath, I looked down at it and thought "Hey, I can still work with this. It can be a sort of fashion statement."

And so our love affair continued, me spotting a pair of jeans with a knee rip, hey, it worked out.

As fate would have it, sure enough the other pant leg ripped at the knee, this time however not so bad so I figured I was lucky. It looked really unique to be quite honest. A distressed jean that was not being pretentious, it had seen its bad days but it still looked fabulous kind of like Queen Elizabeth.

Sadly all good,no great things have an end. Soon I noticed my fave was ripping behind, it was slow but it was a sure rip. And right under the butt cheek, Damn!! There was no ignoring this rip. Fashion ended right there and in came the trashy, which I was not going to do.

And like two lifelong friends heading towards different paths of life, I said goodbye to my jeans never knowing if I would ever find one that would replace the space it had left in my life(or rather wardrobe).