A Short History
My beloved denim shorts, purchased in 1993 and worn faithfully for 13 years. You know what that means, right? They've been with me for as long as my husband has.
This may explain his aversion to my shorts. You know, because he remembers me wearing them in high school and it feels a little weird.
"You're still wearing those?" (In case you're wondering, the look on his face would be mix of amusement and mild disgust.) "Go shopping! Buy some new clothes!"
I suppose many women would love to hear their husbands say this very thing. An invitation (nay, a command) to go shopping. Hallelujah!
But I love my shorts. And I don't really like shopping. Especially for shorts that will never measure up to my vintage lovelies.
But eventually I had to admit that they'd gotten too shabby for anything other than lounging about the house or maybe walking the dog. Every time I wore them outside I had an overwhelming suspicion that I was secretly being filmed for an ambush on What Not to Wear. Alex got pretty tired of walking behind trees and parked cars.
So I went shopping. I went to J Crew and bought a new pair of shorts.
But there was one problem.
They weren't as nice and flannely as the originals. You know what I mean-- when the denim gets so worn and soft it can curl up into a cozy little ball, like a cat.
The new ones were stiff. They felt unnatural. "They just feel like they're not 13 years old!" M argued.
To M's dismay, I went back to the originals.
Earlier this week I was pulling some laundry out of the dryer when I felt that familiar softness at my fingertips. My shorts!
The only thing better than my shorts is my shorts when they're all warm and cozy from the dryer. So I put them on. Funny, they felt a bit drafty. Oh, well. I plucked an unruly bobby pin from my hair and shoved it in the back pocket.
The next thing I felt was the bobby pin sliding down the back of my leg.
Look, there! A huge, gaping hole, where yesterday there was only the hint of a hole!
I raced upstairs to confront M.
"You did this!" I huffed. "You sabotaged my shorts because you don't like them!"
He deined it, and I supposed I have to believe him. He's never lied to me before. But I'm not completely sure. M is much more positive about the shorts now that half of my rear end is visible when I wear them.
So should I just throw them out already? Because I was thinking about patching the holes.
If they make patches that big.