My decade-old denim looks like it’s been abused by a sadist cat: it has cuts and tears, and holes in places a stripper would be proud of. I’ve retired it to the far end of my closet when last week, I decided to wear it to work; it got raves from my friends.
And so I wore it again yesterday. While waiting for them for lunch, I sat on the chair in our lobby and I felt the cold kiss of leather somewhere near my butt. My friends arrived to see me seated with my hand squeezed under my derrière as I tried to assess the damage—needless to say, I looked weird.
I had to explain myself: “I think there’s a hole at the back of my jeans.”
They made me stand up and turn around. There was collective gasping: in this context, the gasping wasn’t flattering—it was worrying.
The hole, it turned out, was exactly below where the mound ends. While it didn’t show skin—just an inviting black hole to vertically challenged sodomists—it was unacceptable in a professional environment or any outdoor environment for that matter, aside from Makati Avenue. Or Malate.
I left my friends and went straight to Glorietta 2—I only had one hour to shop and I didn’t want to spend much. The first stop was Mango HE which has pants for sale, for as low as P1,000 (colors: yellow, red) and P1,500 for the safer khaki, gray, and black. They were advertised as straight cut and yet, my foot could barely fit into the leg of the jeans.
Pucha. Are skinny jeans the new straight cut?
I fit one leg and didn’t even bother to wear the other—it was so temptingly soft (and so tight) that that scary word flashed in my head: JEGGINGS! Man, they look awful, but damn, they felt real good.
Next was Folded & Hung. One of my ultra favorite jeans is from F&H. I took a look at the jeans on display and most of them look like my ultra favorite jeans. Nothing much has changed.
I then moved to Penshoppe, whose window display and interiors are just way too young for me. I remember their beautiful store in Megamall with the wooden floors and bachelor pad props, but now, the lighting is garish and One Direction is playing on loop in the background. It’s interesting how they’re limiting their market to tweens when they’re supposed to be competing with Bench, whose aesthetics and models span a wide age range.
Nevertheless, I tried their straight cut jeans, which again, made my legs feel like sausage. Props to their dressing room though: the lighting was perfect for selfies. It would also look perfect for music videos.
Bench didn’t offer any wash variety: it was all black and dark blue.
I took a break for lunch and that’s when I had an epiphany: Uniqlo. How could I forget? It’s the pants that make my colleagues give a second look and say, “Felix Bakat.” (Disclaimer: it’s the front fold that’s giving the illusion.)
How I wish I made it my first stop. It was a breezy fitting: they are perfect and they are NOT SKINNY! I was able to go back to the office and no longer give a peep show from the back.
Always check your behind before getting out of the house.