Thursday, June 8, 2017

The beginning of the end

There are gloomy philosophers who say we start to die from the moment we're born.

The same can be said of objects. Everything starts to deteriorate the moment it's made. Case in point: my jeans.

They started out dark blue about five years ago. A few months back I realized they had become pale blue, like the jeans I bought that way back in the '80s. And frayed bits had developed on the cuffs. Then, the other day, tah-dah, a hole on the right leg.

"Cool, you're about to become stylish," joked Lou.

Eh, I did the ripped jeans thing back in the '70. Now my priority is to not look too much like an old homeless guy who lives in a van. So these will become my dirty work pants. Grease, paint, adhesives, more rips, whatever. Then one day, when the crotch rips out, I'll send them off to blue jeans Valhalla. And some other jeans will become the designated grimy pair.

1 comment:

  1. I went through a time, awhile back, when I patched all my jeans to extend their life. Made the patches from other old jeans in the bottom drawer. It's very time consuming. Took hours of hand work, cutting, hemming, stitching byhand. When finished I wore them like a badge of honor. I think I'm through with that now, although, I stI'll need a badge of some sort.