The horror of mom jeans

By Heidi von Tagen
Gorgeous Bits Blog
,
Portland

It’s casual Friday tomorrow. Jeans at the office. Nice jeans, dark blue, maybe skinny or flared, but definitely not Mom Jeans.  The name horrifies me.

It’s been tossed around these days on What Not to Wear and People Magazine. It’s used to describe that sheath of denim that covers about an inch above a woman’s belly button, the back pockets placed high on a woman’s hips making her ass look about 4 inches higher than it should, a snug but forgiving thigh, and usually pegged at the ankle… ala 80’s.

It’s horrifying because that “cut” of jeans is what I wore most of my life.

In the eighties, they were cool. James Jean, San Francisco Riding Gear, Normandy Rose Jeans (with glitter sewn right in). I wore them with a huge comb in the back pocket that said something sexy like “Curves Ahead”, and tucked them into light pink suede slouchy boots. I saved my babysitting money for a month to afford them and reveled in the fact that my mom totally didn’t get it and said things like: “you could buy three pairs of jeans for the same price at Sears” and “they should pay you to wear their label. It’s free advertising”. I coveted them and wept when they went through the dryer and became forever mottled with melted Bonnie Bell Dr. Pepper lip gloss.

As a stay at home Mom, they were the only thing I wore other than sweat pants. I thought they were perfect, because the high waist at least made it look like I had one. They were also awesome because I could perform origami with my post-baby stomach and zip it neatly into submission.

The huge leather badge at the waistband that advertised San Francisco Riding Gear was replaced by the words Wrangler and Lee, and the rise comfortably covered enormous cotton briefs (briefs not bikinis– in other words, Granny Panties that came in a 6 pack from Costco) After all, once you’ve given birth to 2 or 3 children, sexy underwear is a thing of the past.

I’ve tried low slung hip hugger jeans that are in fashion now. I want more than anything to be a sexy hip 40 something Mom-creature that sports stylish denim with high heel boots. I’ve studied the magazines, been admonished by my teen-age daughter and watched marathon episodes of “What Not To Wear”, so I know better.

But I still hear the siren call of the Mom Jeans.

The high waisted, acid washed, high back-pocketed, pleated Calvin Klein’s hanging in my closet mock and tempt me.

Recently MSN reported cattily that Jessica Simpson was recently caught wearing a pair.
I think I like her better now.


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