By Esther C. Baird
First published in the Tri Town Transcript Sep 17, 2019
Fine, it’s back to school season. I’ve written for years about the school supply death spiral and the lunch box march to nowhere. I’ve railed against the sexist box stores that only sell speciality sports shoes in mens and boys and here, in 2019 (almost in 2020), give no indication that they ever read my column, or plan to sell women’s sports shoes before we get our jet packs… which I take to be
never.
But now, this fall, I either have to dig a hole and bury myself, or do something about the blight that has befallen us and our darling daughters. In a word (technically two) I give you: mom jeans.
Ladies! Girls! Teenagers! Get an absolute grip on yourselves. Return with me to that far off land we call reality. You with the shell-necklaced necks and Vans becushioned feet: yes you.
You. Do. Not. Look. Good. In. Mom. Jeans.
I know it’s hard to sit and listen to reason, but that’s because it’s physically hard to sit when you are wearing jeans meant to cut off your circulation and cause you to slowly asphyxiate. I can’t help my friends who are my age and wearing mom jeans. If you are 35 or older, you are a grown person who lived during the first round of this wardrobe fiasco. You are an adult who can
make your own decisions — even very, very, very, bad ones.
But young ones, beautiful fresh-skinned darlings of America, you millennials and teens and tweens, you have your whole life ahead of you and, heaven help us all, you are on social media. Do not ruin college admissions and future jobs and your own possible future children’s self-esteem. Do not force all those people to look back upon this dark time. You can’t unsee a pair of mom jeans. Trust
me, I know.
We children of the late 70s and 80s, and even the early 90s, implore you. We fought hard. We freed our torsos from the denim jails that meant every meal was a ticket to discomfort. We fought, and we won jeans that sat on our hips, not our waists.
Here’s something you need to know about your waist — it sits basically below your chin. You have your chin, some ribs, and your waist. Do you really want your entire lower stomach covered in denim? Mom jeans represent tyranny and injustice and acid reflux for women and girls of any age or body type.
As you can see I feel strongly (and correctly) about this. Naturally, I brought this truth to a shopping trip with our youngest who is going into seventh grade and is very fashion aware. She needed jeans. And she wanted mom jeans. And she tried them on. Possibly one million pairs.
Each time she came out of the dressing room, strangled in denim, with the waist nearly doubling as a turtle neck, the sales clerk, herself awash in denim, cooed, “oh they are soooo cute and so darling.You look just totally extra.”
My daughter beamed at me, “do you love them?”
Regular readers, you know I am nothing if not gracious.
“You look absolutely ridiculous.”
My daughter looked to the dressing room attendant who pointedly ignored me and held out another pair.
“Try these,” she said with a perky smile.
They had buttons where the zipper should be. Mom jeans that button instead of zip. The movie “Dumb and Dumber” epitomized in a garment. What was next? A corset? Should I go buy futures in whale bones? Please hear me, the day I button up my jeans is the day I am lying in a pine box.
“There is not one thing on this planet that will persuade me to purchase that pair of jeans,” I said to anyone at all who would listen.
The dressing room attendant flung her platinum locks and swished away some place less down on her vibe. Swish away sweetheart, but it’d be easier to swish if you weren’t wearing a body cast of denim. Just saying.
We ended up with two pairs of jeans, with zippers, and waistlines that probably could signal the international space station they were so high. I lost the battle, but I will not lose this war. Because come this fall or winter, when all these lovely, frolicking, gazelle-like girls are galloping about the school hallways, they will realize mom jeans are hard to sit in, hard to eat in and downright ugly.
Someday they’ll want their swish and gallop back with fully oxygenated blood and functioning internal organs. Let’s hope it’s before we get our jet packs.