My father mentioned in passing yesterday that my nephew had recently purchased some new vintage jeans, the kind of jeans that my sister and brother-in-law wore years ago. True, the information is third hand, but "years ago" suggests that I was wearing similar jeans at that time, too, so I spent last evening (as well as a couple of hours lying in bed) thinking about my own jeans wearing history.
For me, it started with Toughskins, a house brand of jeans that I believe Sears offered to all boys in the 1970s. I will not bother to research how popular they were, but I do know that I was one of many kids at school who wore these jeans each day on the playground. The name stayed true; an afternoon of heavy playing outside with Adventure People (Fisher-Price) or various trucks (Tonka) allowed for plenty of opportunity to crawl around on the hands and knees in the dirt, grass, or rock garden (as we had in our front yard, complete with a couple of very dangerous yucca plants).
Toughskins had a kind of rubbery, leathery patch on the back of the jeans, exactly where the Levi's thing is on jeans. This was the one part of the apparel that was not so tough. The patch came off fairly easily, but I found it to be a perfect addition to the other makeshift toys I tended to use with my action figures, etc. For example, said patch could serve as a cover of a little hole that I had dug in the yard for a figure to hide in, or to be used as a little raft for a guy to stand on in a river (which was located right at the curb of the street, sometimes turning turbulent after a heavy rain.) This made for some fun times having to go chase the little group of figurines down the block, frantically trying to rescue them before they got to the storm drain, where they would drain away never to be seen again. (Note - Had the book IT been published during my childhood, I NEVER would have been playing in this fashion.)
At any rate, the toughskins always held up. I always grew out of mine as opposed to wearing them out, despite the tremendous wear and tear they took. They probably saved the life of my butt cheek that one day that I decided to "sit" on a cactus that was planted in the yard of one of the houses that we passed by on our way to and home from school.
I recall very clearly that we would buy these jeans at the Sears store at Valley View Mall. The boys section was right at the entrance to the store, and the jeans were always at the front, next to the Husky section. I was always intrigued by the Husky section; the society labelled size used for those boys who were on the "big" side, even though they were little kids. At the time, I did not know that many overweight kids, but there was always one or two in every class. Today, I would think of Mo, the bully who intimidates Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes) as husky, and come to think of it, many of the bullies in elementary school were on the "larger than the average student" scale.
Husky was a funny word, and we did not use it much. In fact, I had to ask what the word meant (in context of the children's size) during an early shopping trip when my mom said, "No, that is not your section," when I went to the jeans rack. And, I do not recall ever using the word husky on the playground at school, partially because I had learned that it was not the politest way to describe someone's size. People my grandmother's age probably used the word more frequently, much the way that her generation helped to generate the use of the word "spaz" or "hyper." Ironic that these terms were used by adults who thought that they were just stating the facts, despite the negative connotations.
Spaz was a word that we DID frequently use on the playground, primarily because it was even more fun to say than husky. And, spaz covered a whole lot of topics, especially in the imaginative world of a child.
But, it was a negative word, and even though I did drop it from my vocabulary, along with the other aforementioned words, I remember being dismayed from time to time when hearing an adult refer to a rather active, overweight child as being husky and hyper.
Our family was not goody-goody (though if anyone came close, it would have been my mother), but we did discuss acts of right and wrong, as well as the significance of how hurtful words could be. As a result, we knew the words, but we also knew how devastating the words could be, particularly when you are the recipient.
My mother told me once how proud she was of me when I was describing a classmate standing in a group across the parking lot as my mother picked me from school. I simply indicated that I was referring to the girl in the big sweater (instead of suggesting that she was overweight). Although I remember the incident, I had never really considered describing the girl in any other way.
Back to jeans. As a preteen, my mother took me a local store for my age group for some new jeans for the upcoming school year. Somehow, my mother got talked into purchasing some jeans that were on sale, on sale because they were the previous year's style. That is why, as an 11 or 12 year old, I was wearing Selfridge bell bottoms. In the store, I was excited to be getting multiple pairs of jeans. A few weeks later when I realized that I was the ONLY one wearing silly jeans, I was none too pleased.
I did not grow all that quickly, but I eventually got through the experience, and by the time I was in junior high and certainly high school, I was wearing Levi's.
Things were easier back then. There was only one decision to make, really: which size.
During the end of high school and through college, I did regularly wear jeans, but I also wore pants, mostly black pants, but sometimes gray, and I still own a pair of houndstooth pants that are fucking awesome.
So, circa 1990, I had blue jeans from Levi's, and black pants from wherever, but usually from Structure or the Gap.
By this time, I was pretty much at full height, and size was pretty straight forward. I did start to migrate more and more towards black jeans, but once in a while I would wear blue, and that is pretty much how things have continued for the past 30 years.
For the most part, I never got caught up in the various styles and fits that Levi's started offering. In fact, their selection has made things all the more difficult for me when making the infrequent purchases. I stick with the same version, simply in blue or black, but to FIND that version in the store means you have to wander through lots of shelves and racks of all the other offerings; acid wash, skinny, flexi, boot cut, straight leg, etc.
Sigh, I guess things could be worse. Ultimately, it is a great thing that I have been wearing the same size for about 25 years, and, because of the cost of Levi's in Europe, I tend to stock up on jeans during stateside visits.
Unlike toughskins, which might have been dyed with lead paint, my jeans these days tend to fade with time and washes. I tend to wash my jeans semi-frequently, though I am aware of the process of never washing them. I personally feel that is a little gross. Sure, the jeans do fade with time, but I can now wear them out and then get more, since I do tend to like a darker color, especially since I try to wear jeans as often as I can in the workplace. (We will discuss work apparel in another post)
Normally, this is not a tremendous issue. Despite being unable to travel stateside the past 18 months, I have a reserve stock of jeans, at least 3 or 4 pairs. However, there has been no need to get them out into action, since I have plenty of other jeans already in circulation. My routine, wear the jeans until the button fly doesn't work well; with time (and washes), the buttons sometimes don't stay fastened.
Last year, as I was unemployed and not having to (not being able to) go to work, I just wore whatever jeans I grabbed from the closet, usually choosing the older pairs that had been worn more times. The logic here, of course, is that any video call involved only the torso. Likewise, for the few months we were not in lockdown, I tended to wear shorts, as it was the summer period.
This is all significant because I sort of got off track and could no longer identify which jeans were suitable for public wearing as opposed to for sitting around the house.
As luck would have it, I discovered that I had unfortunately taken the wrong jeans with me when I went to visit one of my company's facilities a few hours away from Frankfurt during the month of January. I was there every week for four weeks, and after the initial visit, I decided to dress slightly more casual, partly because the weather was pretty wintery (snow and rain) and partly because the site just dressed more casually.
One day during that second week, I was standing outside with some folks and I realized that ALL of my buttons on my jeans had come undone. This was the pair of jeans that was normally assigned to the weekend or stay at home days, but had somehow slipped into the suitcase. When I say that the buttons come undone, I actually mean that they hardly work...they barely button. Not because I have put on weight in that area, but simply because the fabric has become so relaxed. Perfect for sitting around the house, but not great when standing in front of a few people while you are telling them how happy you are to be there.
I took more care in packing the following week, but still came up short, as I only managed to select another pair of jeans where the buttons were ready to stop holding.
I share this information because if anyone else happens to be looking for vintage jeans, I may have a few pair on offer for them. I am actively retiring these so as to avoid future embarrassment in the workplace.
Now, it might be a bit of a stretch, but busting out of jeans, which is kind of how it feels when the buttons come undone without any use of the hands, got me thinking about the recent weather in my home state. Since we are looking at history, I will point out that the mentioned Sedgefield jeans that I wore? That was in 1983.
When I did purchase my first pair of black jeans? 1989.
And when did I notice that I had a jean bursting problem most recently? 2021.
Isn't it interesting that those are the years that Texas has experienced the most severe winters.
In all seriousness, my thoughts and prayers are with everyone going through the tough times in Texas at the moment. That husky spaz that went to Cancun the other day is not the role model I think of; I know better. I know plenty of people who are dealing with all the challenges of freezing pipes, power outages, and general feelings of "it is cold as fuck," and I can only cheer and send happy thoughts your way.
Keep it vintage.
and keep the faith.
bryan
stay tuned for more adventures...including a tentative title, "colon blow, and how much fun it is to eat kebaps for 4 weeks during your onboarding at a new job."
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