Welcome to the swamp! Here, lurking in the muck, where creativity spawns, you'll find Mrs Crocodile, aka Colleen Dunkel, a costumer and teacher based in Basel, Switzerland.


Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Ode to Boyfriend Jeans and Tailors

Boyfriend jeans:  no-woman is going to ask you if her butt looks big in them, because it does.  For one post I would like to sing the praises of boyfriend jeans:
Oh last season's style, a garment that never needed to walk down the catwalk and into the street because it was already on the streets and in our homes.   As long as you had a boyfriend and your boyfriend was a bit bigger than you, his jeans fit you, as long as you didn't mind not looking in the mirror, the jeans fit you.  Oh guys, you have it so easy, for if you take off your tuxedo hose and have nothing to wear, you can always wear your jeans.  However, if you are in a no-male-involved-same-sex-marriage and you have to resort to borrowing or stealing the jeans from masculine acquaintances, I feel for you.  Oh, but we all know how exciting it is to shop in the opposite sex's department of the best thrift shops and the worst department stores.  I know the clothes don't fit, but it's fun dressing up in another person's clothes.  Or try this:  walk up to a man on the street and ask him to take off his jeans for you.  Let me know how it goes.
Well, enough of that, I look around and see so many jeans, so many colors, so many cuts and I remember a time, not too long ago, when breaking in a new pair of jeans was more time consuming than making lasagna from scratch with the noodles you had to cook first.  I remember Levi's 501's shrink to fit, it was a gamble if they would actually fit after you washed and dried them as much as your mother would let you and they were so new and so blue you still didn't want to wear them out of the house. An urban myth from the seventies tells of people actually burying their jeans in the earth for a month because it was the best way of breaking them in.  A person who inherited a pair from an older friend was a lucky dog.  Then there was this interlude of designer jeans when we were in elementary school; they were way too tight to breathe in and firefighters were tired of cutting people out of them, so I guess that's when designers started working on stretch denim.  In the middle of the eighties it was "the 501's Strikes Back", probably since they had lasted so long and they walked back out of closets like the clones.   But for me the best part is that today, Levi's will take a picture of your rear and customize your jeans for you based on their research and photographs of 60,000 female behinds.  Sorry guys.  I know it's a far cry from the same company that started making jeans from tent fabric, but they reckon that a woman on average tries on 10 pairs of jeans before she finds the one pair that fits.  What they don't say, but we know, is that if you are like most of the 60,000 women photographed, you most likely find that your rear changes after a year or so, due to gravity, Thanksgiving dinner or a sit down job and the customized jeans don't fit anymore.  Which brings me to mention this quote by George Bernard Shaw: "The only man who behaves sensibly is my tailor; he takes my measurements anew every time he sees me, while all the rest go on with their old measurements and expect me to fit them."  Actually I've been just chomping at the bit to use that quote for a while.  So my advice?  Can't get an appointment with your tailor?  Stay in the boyfriend jeans, you'll be able to sit at the computer longer and read more blogs.

Yours, with tuxedo pants on,

Yours,
Mrs Crocodile


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