Jill, why did you waste your money on jeans with holes in them? BECAUSE I LIKE THEM, OKAY?!?!?

It’s not easy trying to be cool. Especially when you’re me.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved the holey jeans look. As a little kid, I distinctly remember wondering how much crawling around on my knees I would have to do before I wore down my favourite jeans enough to have holes in them.

It never happened. And somehow, I managed to stop myself from attacking them with a pair of scissors, but only because the fear of what my mother might do to me was just a little bit stronger than the desire for faded, ripped-up denim. I mean, I saw her chase my brother around the house with a fly swatter once because he ignored her orders to clean up his toys. The woman meant business.

I think the love of holey jeans faded a little during my high school days (the frayed cuffs were all the rage then), but in recent years, it’s returned with a vengeance. Allll the cool kids were sporting the distressed look, and holes were very much in style.

See? See the cool kids wearing their ripped jeans?

Unfortunately, I’m not one of the cool kids. I’m more of a super-sized kid. So finding a pair of jeans that fit comfortably (and without having to get them in men’s sizes) has always been more important than being trendy. If they fit, I buy ‘em.

And of course, they don’t make cool-looking fat-girl jeans. At least, not in Canada. Not that I was ever able to find, anyways.

But then, last summer, I was in Midland, Michigan with the Quyon Flyers for the Worlds. More importantly, we were staying at a Holiday Inn very close to a big, beautiful shopping centre. And on our last day in Midland, I finally got to hit up the mall.

As we strolled along, we came upon a store called Vintage, which specialized in women’s jeans. And they had very stylish distressed jeans of all makes, shapes, and sizes. I snagged a bunch of pairs in the size that I thought I was, only to discover in the changing room that I was swimming in them and had to send the sales girl for smaller sizes.

It was like a frikkin' dream come true.

I ended up selecting two pairs – one pair was dark blue with faded creases and small, strategically-placed rips and tears, to give them that “cowgirl chic” look; the other was a pair of low-rise, totally worn-out-looking, fake-bleach-splattered, full-of-holes, pair of jeans that were so comfy and exactly what I had always wanted.

I bought ‘em. Not a second thought.

Now, I fully expected my mom and dad to frown upon the jeans. My mom just doesn’t get the styles of today’s youth. Remember the wrinkly shirt fad? She ruined all of mine - and my brother’s - back in the day by ironing them. She’s an ironing fiend. Wrinkles are not allowed in her home. Those shirts didn’t stand a chance. And my dad wears the same two pairs of pants all week long. "Fashion" is no longer a word in his vocabulary.

So when I came home with these super-holey jeans, they were NOT impressed. My mom tsk-tsk’d me to no end. My dad’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “You mean, you paid MONEY for those?!”

Their reactions? I expected them.

But it’s the been the teasing of my friends and acquaintances that has had me confused. The first weekend I wore the super-holey super-comfy pair? They razzed me like crazy. And almost every time since, someone has commented on them.

Why would you buy such torn-up jeans, Jill? Did you splatter white paint on them on purpose? How much money did you actually pay for them?

One night, I changed into them after work and headed to the city to do some shopping. At Subway, I ran into a neighbour of my parents’, and after we chatted for a few minutes, I saw him giving me the once-over, checking out the jeans. He said, “Do you work for the government?” To which I replied, “No, I still work at Mountainview, I just came down to do some shopping after work.” And, looking quite relieved, he said, “Ahhhh, okay, I was wondering how were allowed to work in an office dressed like that.”

Nice. Thanks.

To all of you wondering what’s up with my holey, distressed jeans, the answer is simple: I really like them. They’re as comfy as PJ pants, and they’re my first pair of cool-girl jeans, and I love them. That is all.



Seriously. I wonder if the cool girls get asked these stupid questions?!?