Diagnosis: HJS (Holey Jeans Syndrome)

(A little something I wrote in 2006, with update at end.  Still applicable. Will get to deeper topics next week.)

Well, I did it.  I said I would never do it, but I did. What did I do?
Well, first a little background.   I'm a courier for the top overnight carrier (rhymes with pecs).  One of my stops just happens to be this mall in St. Charles, IL that is slowly dying. It's losing stores faster than Michael Jackson is losing baby-sitting jobs.  Yes, it's that sad.  The latest casualty is Sam Goody, with Gap, Eddy Bauer, GameStop, and a bunch of other stores fleeing before them.   It's quickly becoming a health club for older people, who daily take laps around the inside, then have some 35 cent coffee. It's also big with young moms, relaxing while watching their kids play on the plastic playground in the middle of the mall. There's the food court.  It has a couple oriental food counters, Sbarro pizza, McD's, the slushy stand, and my friend Jim, the Indian guy with the convenience store where you can buy a newspaper and any can of soda for one buck.   Okay, okay, I'm getting sidetracked, as usual. I'm just trying to set the scene.  

During (The Holiday Time Formerly Known as) Christmas Time, and the shopping season,  I was on lunch break at the mall. I had already had lunch, read my newspaper, and downed my can of Mountain Dew Code Red. I had some time to kill.  So I thought I'd see if I could find a decent pair of jeans for a decent price--which for me is around $25 or less.  So I checked out Zumiez, because 1--it seems to be a pretty cool store, 2--I want to be pretty cool, and 3--there really aren't very many other stores to choose from (Victoria's Secret has no jeans, did you know that?)   I found a sale on some jeans that seemed alright.  Then I noticed the pair on top had a couple holes on the leg.  That's weird, I thought. Well, as I checked the other ones, ALL the jeans had the exact same hole in the exact same spot.  What a coincidence! It was uncanny. I soon found out that the Hollister store and American Eagle are pretty much swimming in the hole-laden $50 jeans as well, albeit their hole-patterns are slightly different.  Not only are there well-manicured holes, but there are spots that have been sanded away around the seams, and some just look plain dirty. It's as if the holes are being put there on purpose...

Let me say that I can appreciate a nice pair of worn-out jeans that someone has had for a few years and lived some life in.   I, myself, had jeans with holey knees back in the day, so I have no problem with the wearing of old jeans.  I just think it's a bit interesting how the sellers of "cool" have apparently convinced the masses that they should fork over 50 bucks (or more) for jeans that are beat up and look like clothes Goodwill would pass on.  I'm just imagining the poor people in the Singapore sweatshops who put together the jeans for the Aeropostale's, the Ambercrombie & Fitchs, and other youth-geared stores. There they are with pieces of sandpaper and scissors going at it on a perfectly good pair of jeans.  I can picture the sweatshop boss screaming, "These jeans look too GOOD, what's WRONG with you people!  I wanna see some frayed seams and holes NOW!"  (All in Singaporian of course.)  They must think Americans are a bunch of idiots. 

So my search for jeans came up short that day. Since that day I not only mocked such purchases but vowed to never, ever, buy a "pre-holed" pair of jeans.  What do they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions?  I did pretty good for about a year, staying away from this trend. But it's funny how things that seem so dumb a year ago somehow become acceptable as time goes by (that's another whole topic to explore.) Three weeks ago, it happened.  I was at the Carson Pirie Scott store at said lame mall.  There it was: a clearance rack of jeans.  Clearance. The word I love.  Sixty percent off.  Cool jeans with holes in them, frayed seams.  The works.  You know, what all the cool people are wearing. I bought them.  I paid money for jeans that were sanded and cut up by some 9-year old Singaporean girl (hopefully  not.)   They were Iron Jeans, which I had never heard of myself.  They were only 20 bucks so I don't feel too bad about buying them.  Please don't judge me.  I'm wearing them now.  Man, are they comfortable.

UPDATE: I since have disavowed buying holey jeans...again, but don't hold me to it. I still have the jeans, holes and all, laying in the bottom of my closet. However, last year, as I wore them to a U2 concert in Chicago, the zipper broke in a bad way, unfixable at the time. (That is a funny story I'll have to share sometime.) I haven't worn them since. I hope to duct tape them back together. I'm not sure if holey jeans are even cool anymore. My kids keep me busy and and I really don't have time to figure it out, or really care for that matter. The lame mall is even lamer, if that is possible. More stores have left, although Zumiez is somehow surviving, as is Victoria's Secret, with the gigantic pictures of women in underwear in their windows. My friend Jim has wisely moved on to greener pastures. I don't go to malls much anyway so I guess I'll be okay.  I still find it funny that we buy new jeans already "holed" and worn for us. Is it a sign of the times? I think it is. I believe it speaks to the desire to look "authentic" without having to go through the process of being authentic. Or maybe we do it because we want to fit into "cool," as defined by the marketers. This is getting me thinking a bit more. This may require a part two to explore.  Either way, I need some new jeans, or some duct tape..