Sunday Jeans

A quiet pint last night at the pub with my delightful housemates Tom and Kerin turned into several pints, which turned into a six-pack for home when the pub closed, which turned into finishing a box of very average white wine. Tom was surly this morning (must be the preservatives in the wine) which was rather cute. Unless you were him, in which case I assumed it sucked.

Market with Charlie, as is our ritual, for cheap produce and today, some much needed pies. Grease levels restored to normal, I went shopping for some new jeans - given the rapid onset of winter and the fact that currently I have nothing to wear other than shorts, this is an increasingly urgent necessity. The desire for new jeans has nothing to do with the date that I have tomorrow. Nothing at all.

My approach to shopping is particularly boy:

1. Decide need jeans
2. Go to Myer*
3. Buy jeans

Today was innovative for me because I actually tried things on. Pretty much all the shorts I own are too big, because I have a tendency to simply walk in an buy them without worrying about size. The young sales assistant was most helpful, although I am sure she thought I was a total idiot. Jeans are a lot more complex than I remember them. Admitedly, I've only owned three pairs in my life, so not really my field of expertise.

Assistant: Do you need a hand with styles?
Tt: Right ... there are styles, eh?
Assistant: Yes, the one's you're holding are boot-cut.
Tt: Good. I'll take them.

She explained what Boot-Cut is, but I don't remember. Tapered? Or something. I don't have any boots, other than several pairs of Converse hi-tops, so I may be making some grievous fashion faux-pa.

I tried on a pair of the current style of the time Black Stove-Pipe jeans - the ones that are all totally rock, despite the fact that I knew they would be no good for me at all. I have rather large thighs as a result of cycling everywhere for the last 10 years, so I unfortunately do not have the ultra-thin rock legs required ... the whole tight stove pipe jeans made my legs look like a rather tightly bound hams. Not to mention the staggering around like some vaguely fashionable paraody of Frakenstein ... I like being able to bend my legs when I walk.

The other thing worth noting is that jeans are fucking stupidly expensive. I don't know when that happened. You don't want to know how much I spent. There goes my budget for the next couple of weeks.

Now .. listening to the Bloc Party, reading, blogging. Washing is in the machine, and I am thinking about cleaning my room.
Well, that's my life. Exciting, no?


* Myer is, in my mind, a completely genius idea. You get all the clothes and you put them in one place. That way, I can go to the one place and buy the thingI need without the hassle, of you know, actually shopping. It is at this point I suddenly realise I have turned into my own father. Which is OK. He's a nice guy, I'm sure you'd like him.