jean therapy

I would never spend a hundred dollars on a pair of jeans, even if they were really hot, but I have no problem spending that much on five pairs of jeans, which I have done, all in the past two months. I may have a problem.

Pair one, two, and three were purchased at a used-clothing store on Melrose. Pair one caught my eye with a red, embroidered pair of lips on the butt. That, and their super tight fit. So tight that even a thong shows through. Commando tight. Club Jeans, if you will. For all the clubbing I do as a full-time teacher.

Pair two had really awesome hems. I don't even like the way they fit my butt, which is the number one thing you look for in a jean, but the hems, oh! Pair two will have to be worn under longish blouses.

I'm only slightly ashamed to admit that I bought pair three because they had a super trendy label, that tiny little red tag on the back pocket. They they don't fit great, but they're not awful either, and they only cost twelve bucks. They will do great on laundry day.

Pair four I bought a few days ago at Goodwill, my new haunt. Seriously, I have been to six Goodwills this week. I am on a quest to find the perfect, busted up looking coffee table that I can paint bright white. I haven't found it yet, but I DID find cool-looking, straight-leg, patch-pocket denim. They happen to have an elastic waist in the back. And they are made by a company called "Cool Mama." I'm not a mama but I'm cool enough to know that even elastic waist jeans are ok to wear if they make your legs look eight feet long.

Pair five I picked up today, at yet another Goodwill. They are thick and dark and sturdy and have very little stretch. They have the potential to become my default jeans when and if my current default jeans go missing or die. They are the least embarrassing of my new collection, and also the most boring.