Why I May Never Wear Blue Jeans Again

On April 1--because I could--I put on a pair of jeans for the first time in a year.

I strutted around the living room for my husband, did a load of laundry, admired my booty in the full-length mirror, and took them off. I cannot imagine wearing them again. I barely know the girl who once wore jeans every day. 

One of my reasons is practical and rather obvious. And it's enough. It's a great reason not to wear jeans on a regular basis.

The other reason is probably weird and unique to me, but it's at the core of the Skort365 project, why I did it in the first place, and why I'm still wearing a skort today.

Reason One: Jeans Feel Uncomfortable.

I am not going to spend another minute telling you why: if we're honest with ourselves, we all know it's true. Yeah, yeah, yeah, miracle, part-Spandex fabrics and all that . . . whatever.

If I'm wearing denim, there is no way I'm going to feel as comfy as I do in a skort. During my one denim hour on April 1, no way I would have: done my morning stretches, ridden my bike, jumped in a lake, thrown pots on my wheel, or been comfortable, temperature-wise, in whatever weather came my way. When I bent to unload the washing machine, the waistband pinched me in a familiar, annoying way--a pinch I have never, ever felt from a golf skort.

So, no. Nope. Dis-qualified. Jeans are banned from my wardrobe because they are the opposite of the go-everywhere, ready-for-anything, feel-like-I'm-in-my-pajamas SKORT. (Read about why I chose the skort here.)

Reason Two: Jeans Look Amazing.

This was undeniable, and I had a witness. Both my husband and I enjoyed the hour I spent in jeans, from a purely aesthetic perspective. Yup. I looked good. The right pair of jeans can do a lot, and we know it, and that's why we love them: they lift and sculpt your butt, lengthen your legs, suck in your tummy. 

When I put on my best pair of jeans, I immediately started thinking about which boots look best with them. I imagined going out, looking good, rocking the jeans again. And then, almost immediately, I started thinking about: which combinations of tops and jackets might best conquer the muffin-top, which belt might hold without grabbing, which underthings produce the most flattering silhouette from behind. I remembered the power of a hot pair of jeans to turn heads and make me appear younger than my 46 years. UH-OH.

I chose the black skort in an attempt to STOP this conversation in my brain. In the skort, I know I never look amazing--but I trust I always look just fine. I can get dressed in the dark: every top in my closet goes with every bottom. Everything fits and is comfortable. I have not thought about how my clothing feels in a year, and that is freedom. I have also thought less about how I look, and it has changed my perspective on myself and the world.

No pair of jeans--no matter how awesome they make me look--is worth compromising what I have gained. My experiment in simplicity did, in fact, silence a lot of noise in my over-active, over-critical, over-sensitive brain. And it's a silence I treasure much more than how my butt looks when I go to a concert.

For reasons both practical and emotional, then, I'm sticking to the skort and bidding denim a final farewell.