Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Goodbye Norma Jean

My dear readers, it fills me with great sadness to have to tell you that today at 9am my most favourite pair of Jeans passed away.

Now if you are not a female then you will probably never understand how difficult it is to find the perfect pair of jeans that fit just right.

I love to shop, but when I need new jeans I dread having to search every single rail in every single shop just to find that perfect pair that won’t give you a big bum / love handles / saddle bag thighs / won’t be too short / too long …

These Jeans were just the right colour of denim; not too dark and not too light. The stitching was a subtle red, darned by only the most talented of sewing machines. Their back pockets sat not too high and not too low, making my rear end look better than any other jeans I have ever worn. They hugged and celebrated my curves instead of making me feel like a frump. They were bought in France in 2005 and I was proud to be wearing size 36 even if I had to release the top button after eating.

This morning the temperature was sub zero in my apartment. After stepping out the shower I was so cold, so freezing, shivering with my goose pimpled skin that I had to jump up and down and flex every muscle in my body in order to warm up…to no avail. Uttering words that I will not repeat here, I franticly dried myself off as quickly as humanly possible while complaining loudly about the fact that my heating timer doesn’t work which really makes getting up in the morning even more of a nightmare than it already is.

Pulling on my most favourite Jeans, one leg in and the other on its way, I lost my balance.

It was one of those awful moments that happen in slow motion. I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t stop it. My legs kicked out, trying to catch my balance before I hit the carpet but this was my fatal mistake. If only I had just allowed myself to fall I would only have hurt myself. Instead, I sacrificed my favourite Jeans.

As I landed on the carpet I heard a sickening ‘rrrrriiiip’.

They are definitely not salvageable but I just can’t face throwing them in the bin. The only Jeans I ever loved. Gone. Forever.

Don’t tell me to move on. I’ve tried other jeans, I really have. But it just doesn’t feel right. I feel guilty for even trying on another pair.

In time I know I will pick up the pieces of my shattered heart and move on, perhaps find another pair of jeans that I might like. But I will never be able to replace those Jeans. And I will never forgive myself.

I’m beginning to wonder whether a girl can only give her heart to one pair of jeans in her lifetime.


Anonymous said...

Hehe classic princessecossais!! wicked blog lass, dont worry there are plenty more jeans in the sea. I suggest hanging a few out to dry, take your time though or youll end up finding a pair which set stiff as cardboard!
Kenny. X

Ghosty said...

The 'favorite jean' phenomenon isn't limited to girls. I also had a favorite pair, which I patched with hand-sewn on patches as they needed it. After several years they fell apart - as there was no actual jean left to the top half, only patches. They wee still my favorites though.

Princesse Ecossaise said...

Kenny - You are right..plenty more jeans in the sea. I will have to be careful when choosing my next pair...It's not an attractive quality to be as stiff as cardboard.


Princesse Ecossaise said...

Ghosty I am deeply sorry for your loss. I had no idea guys felt the same way for their jeans as us females do.

It sounds like you really loved those jeans, you really cared for them, hand-sewing patches onto them. I hope they appreciated the love and care you gave them. They were lucky jeans and they lived a good life.

Still, better to have loved and to have lost than to have never loved atall eh?


sylvie d said...

Mes condoleances...

Me too I have just lost a pair...must be the winter fatening syndrome?! mine broke symetrically, not at all fixable!
My thoughts are with you all!!!


Princesse Ecossaise said...

Yes I think you're right Sylvie, the winter fattening syndrome must have something to do with it!

However,it does make me feel a little better that I'm not the only one thats been through this traumatic experience of losing ones favourite jeans.

It's been a whole day now since the tragedy happened. And I still miss them and their shiny little silver buttons.


Heather said...

Oh, do I feel your pain! I was just telling a friend, on the eve of a planned day of shopping, that I was finally going to have to retire my most beloved pair of jeans -- and how sad that was making me. (They have holes in the crotch area and are too short for me... which they've always been, but still...)

Finding the perfect pair of jeans is, for a woman, a miracle akin to childbirth and chocolate. When they hug your body in all the right ways, yet let go when they need to... ohhhh, joy.

Princesse Ecossaise said...

I couldn't have put it better myself! To find that special one, that special pair of jeans, it's a miracle. A true miracle.