Photo Memories #1

I started going through an old box of stuff. And that's the only way I can describe the box: stuff. In that box, I threw out a lot, including things I had been saving just for the nostalgia associated with it. I finally got the nerve to take pictures of these things and write about them so I could finally rid myself of the physical excess baggage I was carrying around.

These were my first pair of flare jeans. I thought these would be the "magic" to finally make me irresistible to guys. Yeah, that's it...



My mother would never buy me pair. I hate to admit it, but although I could zipper and button them up, I had what is now known as a muffin top. And my mother saw that and said I couldn't get any pants from Gap or Old Navy...and off to Lane Bryant we would go! And what they called "flares" were never flared. They were mom jeans. Mom jeans don't run the risk of muffin tops; the only thing that falls out of the top of Lane Bryant jeans are boobs because that's how far up the waist band is. (Well, I can't say that, really, I haven't shopped there since high school.)

But these were from Old Navy. I saved my allowance (well, lunch money...you would think skipping lunch for a week and a half would have gotten me to an "Old Navy size") and bought a pair on my own. And then I wore them every day for pretty much the rest of high school.

The hole in the left knee was from walking to drivers' ed. one day and I tripped in a crosswalk and ripped the knee. The hole in the right knee was from being bored one day watching TV and playing with a pair of scissors. The hole in the back of the thigh was from...well, I don't know what that's from. I think I had a hole in the seam and I kept picking at it and picking at it and then it turned into a large hole that just got larger the more I walked. Oh, and not to mention that the cuffs were torn to shreds from every day wear and tear.

Once I lost weight, I saved these as my fat jeans. I would wear them around the house when I cleaned, or when I would allow myself to pig out in front of the television with a box of chocolate covered cherries and regular (ooh! Scandalous!) Coca-Cola. Or I would wear them after a break-up when I wanted to feel better about being able to pull them up and down without unzipping them.

When I pulled them out of the box of stuff, I knew I could fit into them again. But I didn't care. They had a lot of good memories attached, but I knew I didn't want to put them on again, no matter how loose (or tight!) they might be. I like the jeans I have now...at least I can wear them to work.