By Angel Sunlight
Searching For Soulmate Jeans
I was looking for jeans, but not just any pair of jeans, soulmate jeans. The jeans I will wear throughout my 20s to every party, concert and class. The jeans that will become my second skin.
So, one Wednesday before class at BCC, I walked over to Mars, the vintage thrift shop on the corner of Telegraph, across from Rasputin Records and the ice cream cookie sandwich shop named after the Wu Tang Clan song. Mars is in good company.
When I walked into Mars, I only had two things on my mind: my pair of soulmate jeans and our $20 limit.
To a soundtrack of the Tom Tom Club and the Talking Heads, I hit the racks searching for the perfect pair of denim to fit my curvy hips and thighs. I noticed that the price tags on the jeans had little names on them, like “All Day, Everyday,” “Wrangler Baby,” and “5-ohhhh-1s,” a play on Levi’s most popular cut, the classic 501s worn by Kurt Cobain and Steve Jobs alike. I grabbed “Wrangler Baby” and the “5-ohhhhh-1s,” and ventured over to Hell (aka The Fitting Rooms).
Well, the “Wrangler Babys” didn’t go past my thighs. I guess I grabbed the wrong size? I tried the “5-ohhhhh-1s” and these fuckers didn’t even button, let alone cross my stomach.
In and out of the dressing room is how I spent the next half hour. I surrounded myself in a sea of denim. These jeans all gave me major camel toe, and considering none of them hit me above the waist, and since I was out of sizes, unless I wanted to purchase a ginormous pair of black Dickies, I kept it moving and went upstairs.
One of the coolest parts of going to Mars: It has a spiral staircase. But, I walked up the black-carpeted ones, to avoid a dizzy spell of claustrophobia. Upstairs I spotted a baby-blue miniskirt, high-waisted and made of quilted satin like those fancy bed spreads from the 1950s. I checked the little white price tag: size 28. It wouldn’t slide past these Anna Nicole Smith thighs of mine! But a girl can dream, right? Discouraged, I browsed the vintage nightgowns and slips, a la Courtney Love circa 1995. But, they were all past the $20 limit, so I went back down the black carpeted stairs.
Mars has an extensive rack or two of flannels. I love flannels. Always have. And anyone that loves flannels as much as I do knows that finding a good flannel shirt comes few and far between. It’s rare to find a flannel in unusual colors, as they mostly come in red, green or blue, unless you want to pay an arm and a leg for a faux-vintage one at a trendy urban store. I kept looking through the flannel shirts and then I found it: a black flannel, with multi-colored stripes. A little bit of Soundgarden, a little bit of Left Eye from TLC in the early 90s.
I walked over to the mirror and held it up to my body. I actually liked it. I thought I could wear it. No, rock it. And for only $14, it’s like buying a flannel in the early 90s!
I headed over to the counter with my special flannel and the blue- haired cashier named Ashley and I talked about how nice of a shirt it really was. Then I brought up the soulmate jeans situation to Ashley, who looked at me with all-knowing eyes and said, “It takes years.”
So, maybe I didn’t find my pair of soulmate jeans yet, but I may have just found my soulmate flannel shirt.