This is going to be one of those “dating me” kinds of posts. But what the hell, I’m datable. (Don’t tell my hubby I said that, okay? It was like a pun, ya know? Although I admit it was pretty much crap. Not much coffee action yet this morning.)
In the late 1970s and early 1980s, wearing jeans became a near cultish thing. And I’m talking about wearing cool jeans – no more Sears Huskys for folks who didn’t want to risk a swirly in the boys’ restroom. And no, that’s not really a voice of experience on the subject. Really. I was actually too thin once in my life. Back when I was also tall. (Neither of these adjectives have been used to describe me since fourth grade, btw.) Instead of sporting the cute Geranimals look, I was the bean-pole in whatever pair of pants my poor mom could find with the word “slim” attached to the label. I definitely didn’t rock the fashion world much back then. And while I may have seriously changed my physique in the ensuing decades, the fashion world is still safe from me.
Bell bottoms, San Francisco Riding Gear, HASH jeans, the list of “cool” jeans at the time goes on and on. (But not really Levis, because they didn’t become truly hawt (aka expensive) until the mid ’80s with a little help from The Boss and Courtney Cox. Yep, it was a time when the ladies used to check out the “back pockets” on the men – none of this silly “pants on the ground” business for we Gen Xers. Oh no. We wore ’em tight, high, and sometimes with a ball cap hanging from the back pocket.)
Anyhoo, I once scored a pair of San Francisco Riding Gear carpenter jeans and thought myself to be the pinnacle of cool – what with my feathered bangs and my rainbow-hued comb in my back pocket. One day I decided I was also the luckiest specimen of coolness, for I found in the carpenter’s pocket of my jeans the mostly uneaten Big Hunk candy bar I’d left there on the previous wearing. (Remember when water conservation was normal and you only washed your clothes when they were dirty and not just too wrinkly from laying on the floor? Yeah, me too. Everybody sing now, “If it’s yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown flush it down!” Good lord, where’s my groovy VW van and carob chip brownies? I tell you, it was a good time to be a kid. Maybe not so great of a time to be a kid wearing 5 complimentary tones of blue eye shadow, but whatever.)
I tell you, not much made my then 14-year-old self happier than a nice day, cool pants, and a Big Hunk.
Any “old-time” candy stories out there? Even better, clothing from your childhood stories to share? Isn’t it amazing how fashion has changed but still manages to make most folks look terrible in “trendy” clothing? (Yes, skinny jeans, I’m looking at you.) If only I would make a better nudist…it would really simplify some things. Especially water conservation.