Tuesday, October 02, 2001

Requiem for pants in C minor

A moment of silence, please, in memory of a dear, departed friend: Tonight, I bade farewell to my favorite pair of blue jeans. Excepting human beings, I believe my relationship to this particular pair of Levi's 501s is the longest standing of any I have enjoyed.

Purchased in 1988, probably at Colonel Day's, button-fly and polished to a buttery state of near translucency, waist size 29 (!) and wire-brushed with an emphasis on accenting the merchandise. They were lucky jeans before there were Lucky jeans, the uniform of choice whenever this army of one chose to "go commando." Frayed, snagged, torn, worn, holey, holy, comfortable and comforting. They have outlasted three serious boyfriends, 13 years of barroom backchat (and at least a dozen bars that expired before them), countless tricks and the occasional treat.

My denim friend finally succumbed to a washing that left it far more threadbare than thread. Survived by a Chess King pullover that thankfully doesn't look like a Chess King pullover and a leather poppers case of roughly the same era. Memorial contributions may be made to The Gap, Eddie Bauer or Land's End.