I haven’t been buying clothes for myself all that much in the past two years. I’ve bought some of vintage, and a new item here and there, but compared to before Frida came into our home, I’m like an Amish person. I have my uniforms that I wear over and over again, and the funny thing is I don’t even mind. I’ve purged my closet several times, selling stuff at Crossroads Trading Company Threadflip, and Poshmark and sending them off to the Score! Pop-Up Swap. And it feels pretty good to have tamed my previously over-indulgent self.
That must be why I’ve barely taken off these Goldsign “The Stevie” jeans since I bought them recently at Rand and Statler in Hayes Valley. I mean it’s kind of a problem. They are all I want to wear, to a fault. You’ve already seen them here, and there I am above wearing them at the park with the little missy. I rather like my Canadian tuxedo look, but I can’t say the same for all of my recent ensembles involving these jeans.
Here I am at the Score! Pop-Up Swap wearing them with my Freda Salvador oxfords and a sweater I bought at Zara for $12 on the same day I bought the jeans. It reminds me of one my friend Susan owned when we lived in Avalon New Jersey for a summer. We called it The Sweater. It was like the sisterhood of the traveling sweater—except that instead of sending the sweater around the world, we all lived together and fought over who got to wear it on breezy beach nights. There is nothing like a soft, 100 percent cotton chunky sweater in a muted color. I wore this exact outfit to a Cool Mom’s Club (yes, that’ exists and I’m a member) on the very day I bought both the jeans and sweater.
Photo by Jennifer Henry-Novich
And this is when I knew the shredded denim madness had to stop. I mean maybe it’s not terrible. But I’d been invited to a dinner at Namu Gaji hosted by Veuve Cliquot (more on that soon). “Oh I’ll dress up my destroyed jeans!” apparently sounded like a good idea. Because putting anything else on my body just made me sad. But when I arrived I felt I’d made a mistake. One of the other bloggers commented: “How often does Veuve Cliquot invite you to dinner?” Indeed. Folks were dressed to the nines. If I had perhaps worn fancier shoes, I may have been happier when I saw this photograph. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my Freda Salvadors. I would go so far as to say they are my favorite shoes. But this outfit, particularly on this occassion, needed something a bit more delicate and dressy. Also the jeans needed to be rolled up more and better. And maybe I just needed to no wear these freaking jeans again and put on a damn dress.
So now, of course, I’ll be taking a break from them, though I still feel a deep affection for my Stevies. It was the same thing previously with my striped, pleated jeans. And there will be obsessions to come, we can all be assured of that.