Dylan Farrow explains why she’s making some changes about her self-image, in “Mirror, Mirror.”
But let’s get real here.
What’s going on with denim? It used to be the fabric of American life. Now it’s more often a memory for us.
How about that gap between the white piece of waistband and the skintight top they gave you in junior high? Or the ripped, button-up with sleeve flapping vest you’d worn around the country all summer? Or the oversize black hat that secured your black afro and eventually became a muzzle?
You remember that day, probably.
You know, the one that could have been Wednesday.
Each shoulder-to-shoulder and leg-sizzling denim “mom” show with envyful parents watching has been de-institutionalized.
Dresses and other formal wear have taken the crown.
Well-heeled shoppers these days would likely, if asked, tell you that some of their college dresses were better than their denim. And maybe a little leopard print with these can be a good look? For certain.
Some of us have adapted to changes. I wear a black blazer over my cutoff boyfriend jeans. If I’m dressed up, which isn’t very often, I wear a blazer over my jeans or sweatshirt, as I did recently. It’s very easy to pull off, just letting loose my edge in jeans-and-beige with just a look of confidence.
Check out how an ABC reporter showed the audience how to pull off dressier denim outfits.
For others, it’s made jeans into a fashion bore. A nine-year-old kid in Connecticut liked to wear them because he looked as though he’d fallen asleep in denim slacks and jeans when he was a toddler. So he wore his jeans all the time as he got older, even driving a jeep and a convertible in them, both of which were now out of style.
A woman posted on Instagram that she became tired of wearing a striped T-shirt with red sneakers “out in public and nobody notices anymore” (oh, that’s very nice). She just got a new look. Two caps with Adidas basketball shirts. Etc. Etc. Etc.
While some have embraced the look of denim as an easy way to trend with the day’s top fashion, others have tapped into the looks of those who have worked their way into being reviled and reviled — like mom jeans.
My friend Meghan went for a new look in her jeans. She came home from Macy’s recently after spending time on the sales floor in a H&M and told me she went for flared, flat, hipster pleated jeans with straps (called buckle-revealing) to try to pull off her best “Kristen Stewart.”
“Have you ever thought about tattoos?” Meghan asked in part. “Bend over,” her two-year-old daughter said.
So that’s how she did it.
I feel like jeans had a great deal going for them. From the John Mellencamp-inspired 45s of a dozen years ago, to the ones with flare and odd details of the ‘80s, that’s history gone by the wayside. Today, I’d say that almost every company with a legwear line has worked into a jeans piece some sort of detail, with embroidery, beading, fringe and assorted tacky stickers and tape that can be applied either at the time of the garment or, even worse, with polishing sander. It’s a glimpse into the soul of Levi’s or the Gap and not a pretty one.
Bottom line? jeans got ready to be big again, and, at the same time, seem to be telling people that they’re not, and aren’t. I don’t see this stuff being jean anymore. I think my daughter would say the same.
I was confused when Levi’s realized that Facebook was a good way to advertise pants with kids’ brands inside of them. How will Levi’s market its jeans? “You’ll look like your mom jeans” instead of “you’ll look like a fashion model.”