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A Tale of Ripped Jeans

A tale of torn jeans - www.pencilshavingsstudio.com

We like to talk about denim every now and then over here as evidenced by the popularity of these posts on skinny jeans for the curvy girl (and its subsequent follow-up). Last week in all the build-up to the home tour madness, we weren’t eating at home because the kitchen was spotless and no way in heck was I gonna mess THAT up. SO I stumbled out the door with both the boys to grab some dinner in my current favorite jeans, these buttery soft Pilcros from Anthropologie that I’d bought in California.

We made it through dinner and I didn’t forget my wallet again at this particular restaurant like I’d done the last time. I’m pretty sure I looked like an exhausted hag, and I got the baby all strapped into his carseat and then climbed into the driver’s seat. RIIIIIIIIIIP. And in that sinking feeling, I just knew that I had a six-inch rip in the butt of my jeans. WHAT. NO.  NO TO THE RIPPED JEANS THAT ARE NOT ON PURPOSE RIPPED.

“Um, Jude? Yeah, we are NOT going to the park right now.”

WHYYYYYYYYY?”

“Well…. because I have ripped pants.”  And this, naturally, led to a rousing chant of “RIPPED! PANTS! RIPPED! PANTS!” for the next two miles. And then occasionally off and on the next few days.

I am no stranger to holey jeans. It was 2004 and I was a new college graduate making not a ton of money at my first real adult job. And it was also about this time that designer denim became a thing. Suddenly jeans were $150 and nobody was buying them from the Gap anymore – fancy denim was making a fashion statement with brands like 7 for All Mankind, Citizens of Humanity, Joe’s Jeans, etc.

And I’ll be honest – I was totally sticker shocked by the price point. So it took me awhile to hop on the bandwagon, and once I did, it was into the yummiest pair of 7FAM jeans. I adored them – they were perfection.  Until … six weeks into owning them, they got a hole in the knee. That super-soft buttery denim? Yeah. Totally tear-prone. How sucky, right? $150 down the drain, AND I didn’t have my favorite jeans anymore. So I decided I’d take them back to the local boutique where I bought them – it wasn’t their fault but surely they’d send them back to the manufacturer as a defect.

What went down is now a legendary story in our family.

Me to store owner: “I bought these jeans, and I LOVE them, but they ripped right in the knee. Surely that’s a defect.”

Store owner, skeptical: “Yeahhhh, I don’t know about that.”

Me, surprised at the lack of help: “Well, I mean, they were $150. I would expect $150 jeans to last longer than a few weeks. I know it’s not your fault, but surely the manufacturer stands behind them.”

Store owner: “Oh no, mine ALL do that. Actually, because I have big thighs that rub together, I usually get holes there too.”

Me, open-mouthed: “…..”

Store owner, thoughtfully: “Do you have a sit-down job or a stand-up job? Because if you have a sit-down job, all that standing and bending your knees probably contribute to the holes in the knees of your jeans.”

Me, speechless: “…. I, uhhhh, I guess I have a sit-down job?”

Store owner, triumphantly: “Well see! There you go.”

And then she basically refused to do anything about my beloved favorite jeans. So off I went, in my sit-down pants to my sit-down job with my holey pants, never to return to this particular OKC shop again. It’s 12 years later, and I’m still irritated. And this entire experience was with me as I marched into our local Anthropologie the next day with my butt-ripped jeans. And maybe a shred of dignity.

Me: Hi, yeah, I was at dinner with my kids last night when I sat down and my pants ripped. (SMILE)

Super kind shopgirl (bless her heart): Ohhhhh..

Me: Yeah. I mean, I love them, but they really shouldn’t rip like that.

Shopgirl: ….

Me: …… (smiling still, now with zero dignity left but whatevs)

Shopgirl, clearly semi-mortified for me after some shuffling about, quietly: I’ll just go ahead and refund you.

Me, overjoyed: THANK YOU!

So it was a victorious moment and you’ve never seen a girl with a ripped butt pair of pants prance so happily out of an Anthropologie in your life. I hop into the car and text Simon that I got a full refund.

His response? “Sit down jobs for the win.”

AMEN.

(Image via WhoWhatWear)

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