Chattanooga Pulse

Recently I purchased what is likely the hardest garment to procure in any person’s wardrobe: blue jeans. I was in the mood and needed to replace a pair so off I went to the mall while the iron was hot, so to speak.

Now if you know what I am talking about when I say that I was “in the mood” to shop for jeans, then you know how frustrating this task can be. But I was so sorely disenchanted with one of the three pair of supposedly “identical” Gap jeans I’d purchased a year or so ago that I had to replace them immediately.

It seems that suspiciously one of the three pair faded too much, shrunk too high and was a victim of some sort of zipper malfunction that rendered them unwearable. And without three pair of jeans in good working order, my regular laundry rotation is thrown way out of whack. But instead of just running in the Gap and buying the same old style, I thought I would see what else was out there. This placed me in a situation that would prove to eat up an entire afternoon.

When I was a kid, buying jeans was easy. As soon as the cardboard knees of my Sears Toughskins started to protrude through the patented double-layer denim construction, it was time to buy more. And, since they came in about ten different colors, picking out Toughskins was fun for an eight year old. I always felt sorry for my friends who had to wear “husky” sizes though, because they only came in three colors—brown, burgundy and regular old blue denim (which no kid wanted in the early seventies).

As a preteen, bell bottoms with hip embroidery became the style and my brother and I jumped on the bandwagon as if it was sitting still. I remember not only the random stitching (either factory or Mom-made), but the leg openings that were so big they’d completely cover your shoes.

When the eighties kicked in and my high school years progressed, I switched to the more peg leg look of the Levi’s 512 (low waist, slim fit, tapered leg). If they’re good enough for Ric Ocasik, Bowie and Mick then who am I to argue? And they looked really cool with the pointy-toe shoes and checkerboard Vans of the day.

Even though in hindsight they must have looked ridiculous at the time, they were still nowhere near as tight and androgynous as the chick jeans all of the hip dudes are wearing now. I bought mine in the “men’s department” mind you. I admit now that I wore them for far too many years, only to ditch them during the grunge era when jeans went back to some sort of boot cut or something. But anyway, back to the story at hand.

On this particular denim excursion, I decided to branch out a little past my brand loyalty to see if there was possibly some sort of blue jean revelation that was missing in my life. First I tried my luck at Marshall’s. Ghetto. Then I went to Dillard’s to retry Levi’s and try Lucky brand. Now I remember why I ditched Levi’s back in the eighties.

As I disappointedly made my way past “Pretzel Time,” I ran into some familiar faces. A husband/wife team of local restaurateurs ready with some quick pant wisdom that was surely steeped in personal experience. “Don’t get the ‘sport cut’ cause they’ll highlight your junk too much,” said the wife to the husband’s speedy reply, “Yeah, she’s always buying me nut-huggers and they suck.” Point taken.

So then I tried Banana Republic. Nut-huggers. In fact, I was shocked at how those and all of the other jeans were starting to look on my odd-shaped frame. But as I put back on the jeans I was wearing to go jeans shopping in the first place, I had an epiphany.

My old jeans were so comfortable and looked great in the mirror. Why am I spending so much time trying to find something as good or better than what I was already wearing? So without further adieu, I walked over to the tried and true glowing mecca of the Gap store and picked up a pair of the old familiar—never to stray again.

Chuck Crowder is a local writer and general man about town. His opinions are just that. Everything expressed is loosely based on fact, and crap he hears people talking about. Take what you just read with a grain of salt, but pepper it in your thoughts. And be sure to check out his wildly popular website www.thenoog.com