Highgate

Tuesday

The Pants

I spent this evening with Eva, relaxing on her couch - waiting out the damp weather with dinner and a movie, and a little sewing. In the basement blankets were soaking up water that was threatening to fill up the basement.
Dinner was Penne and Vodka sauce, the movie was Age of innocence, and the sewing, was true hodgepodgery. I've had this one pair of pants for a very long time, going on close to four years, they were bought for me by an old and nearly-forgotten friend at a used shop in Williamsburg and were literally, my first pair of jeans. Until that point I had only ever worn slacks, cords, and in grade school, "Bugle Boys". Jeans always felt uncomfortable... They were tight, when I bought them, and this friend who worked at Barneys on 5th avenue (or some other avenue. I dunno.) said they were Levis, "custom made" for someone, I guess with long chicken legs and no ass.
Time wore on, as well did my ass on the seat of the jeans, and before long the ass/crotch section was not really there anymore; I couldn't get rid of them though social conventions, much like those of Edith Wharton's New York, permitted me from exposing my testicles.So out came the sewing kit, old hankeys, shreds of pants, iron-on patches, and the like. When I was finished, I had saved my pants. Temporarily. As time passed, as it's want to do; it passed again, like a bullet train, through the seat of my beloved pants. This time, ripping in new places, along new tension lines created by new seams. Leaving, now larger, more jagged holes.
Again I brought out the kit; hot glue guns this time, my old compatriot SP brought out her sewing machine; the patches were mended, strengthened, and all was right again in the world.Tonight as I was sitting - sewing; I wondered how many more times I'll be able to sew these same pants. When should I get some new ones? More so, I thought about entropy, and worried about the rate of pant-decay vs. The rate of pant sewing skills/pant acquisition...
But then, these are still good pants; they encourage me to learn new skills; to sew, they teach me to be more considerate, I'm sure to pull them up a bit when I sit down. Patience, while I slowly tie on another patch. They may be faded, out dated and baggy in the wrong places, but damn-it, they're my pants.

4 comments:

Eva the Deadbeat said...

nice post but where are the shots of Tanner holding up his patched up pants? mmmm? and not to worry, i am sure daniel day lewis would have let his testicles hang out while walking down an old new york city street...i believe it was the fashion for the dandies at one time or other...

casey said...

I myself cannot wear blue jeans. Short and swarthy does not a dungaree man make.

So consider yourself among the blessed.

The Le Duo said...

i only wear jams.

angela said...

good pants are nearly impossible to find. you're keeping the dream alive for us all tanner.