Jeans (Or Why I Am Stuck)

I have often said that I wish I had invented blue jeans: the most spectacular, the most practical, the most relaxed and nonchalant. They have expression, modesty, sex appeal, simplicity - all I hope for in my clothes.
-Yves Saint Laurent

All of my favorite pairs of jeans have ripped in a certain somewhat embarrassing area in the past few weeks. The rips aren't large, but they're there and that's enough to warrant exile to the permanent dirty-clothes pile (I have two dirty clothes piles, the one that gets washed on occasion,and the one that never gets washed because the other pile takes priority...). It's sad having to exile my favorite jeans, because they're always the ones that were most expensive, Express, Bullhead, Cropp (it's a Polish brand), they're all sitting in that pile.

This morning I was put in a predicament. Every single pair of jeans that are not ripped (which happens to be two pairs) are so in need of a washing machine visit that I can barely touch them. One pair I wore for multiple days while preparing for a concert I was in charge of - after hours of loading in equipment, loading out equipment, jumping up and down, and general running all over the place, they reek. The other pair I wore camping, and we all know what happens to camping clothes. Therefore, this past week I've been getting extremely creative with what I've been wearing. Dress pants - check, now they have grass stains all over because apparently when I'm on photo shoots I pay no attention to what I'm kneeling and laying in. Random cargo pants that I never *ever* wear other than when I'm dressing up as a marshmallow to play in the snow - check, now they have stains from going stargazing in a field where cows live. Therefore, this morning when I stepped out of the shower, I realized I literally have no pants to wear at all.

None.

I like to think of myself as a rather ingenious individual who is creative enough to work through challenges and emerge triumphant. As I stood there surveying the piles of clothes strewn around my room, I mentally put on my ingenious hat and got to work. I first double checked that all my acceptable pants were indeed smelly and gross. They were. So, I moved to the permanent dirty-clothes pile. I looked over all of my favorite jeans, sighed, and asked myself "Why not? It's not like anyone ever looks intentionally at that area anyway." I became brave. Very quickly that braveness turned into apprehension and I spotted my double sided tape. Perfect.

I grabbed my most favorite pair and spent several minutes taping shut the holes with double sided tape. Soon, they were good as new and I felt triumphant. I mentally took my ingenious hat off and slipped on the jeans. Just then I realized...oh gosh, I used double sided tape. But, it was too late. My jeans were stuck to my legs. I was already close to missing breakfast, so I figured I'd deal with that later, and walked to the cafeteria thinking I really like these jeans!

All went well, I got through breakfast and my first meeting of the day without anyone being suspicious or yelling out "Matthias! Did you know you have holes in your jeans?!" I felt rather happy with myself, after all, I did solve my problem without having to resort to the pants I used to paint in this summer. All went well, until I had to use the restroom.

I stood in the stall, unbuttoned, unzipped, and started to pull down when all of a sudden something caught. Oh no, the double sided tape! I realized quickly, I'm stuck! I can't get out of my pants! I really need to use the toilet. I tried again, still stuck. What had I done? The tape had fused to my skin and wasn't giving up without a painful fight.

Eventually, after removing several patches of hair, I was able to accomplish my goal. Then, absentmindedly, I pulled the pants back up. As I write this, I'm realizing I'm stuck again, and probably will try to hold it until absolutely necessary.

I think it's time to do the laundry...
-Matthias

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