A few days back, Lovely Daughter #2 helped me sort through my closet and get rid of clothes that don't fit, or don't flatter, or I simply don't wear. By the time we were through, we had several bags of good stuff for charity.
My jeans took the biggest hit. I own eight pairs of jeans, total: one white, two black, and five blue.
For a gal who spends about 95% of her life in jeans, that's not much. It also means that they wear out pretty fast, as I do everything from garden to walk the dogs to wipe up spills in my jeans.
Okay, not the white ones; those are strictly for garden parties and the like.
The white pair and the two black pairs were given the thumbs up from LD#2.
The other five pairs? Not so much.
She especially hated these jeans:
I thought they looked pretty good on me, but when she took a photo of me on her cell phone from behind, I saw the ugly truth.
The pockets make my backside look horrible!
The pockets are too pattern-y, too wideset, and they tilt away from the midline of the back in a very steep angle, which all contribute to making my butt look like a doublewide trailer.
She didn't have much to say about these, either:
Too faded, too sad.
Some of my jeans are Not Your Daughter's Jeans, a brand that fits me nicely:
But, alas, one of my NYDJ jeans suffers from terminal bleach splash:
This pattern of bleach spots may look cute on a 20something, or on an allover pattern. But on one thigh on a gal who last saw the inside of a Labor and Delivery room 19 years ago, it's just sad:
I also own a couple pairs of Joe's Jeans, a brand that has stayed trendy for quite a while now. This is a closeup of the back right pocket on one pair of my Joes':
...and this is the back left pocket. The one where my cell phone has rubbed a hole clean through:
My cell phone habit has been very hard on my other pair of Joe's, too:
Holes don't belong on anybody over the age of 29, unless you're a rocker in your 60s and you're still singing, despite your overly collagen-ed lips. You guys get a pass. The rest of us, not so much.
So, with some degree of sadness, I folded up five pairs of blue jeans--all the blue jeans I own:
By the way, that bow, below, came with the top pair of jeans, there. Shows you how much they've faded:
The jeans will go to Goodwill, where they'll either be sold as is or be turned into cash-worthy recyclable fabric.
But first, I had to empty all the pockets. I found five doggy-poop bags and a Cheerio.
'Cuz that's just how I roll.