You, step forth.
What is this… jean… you wear about your waist, child?
A “’90s Crop”? Is that really what they call it now? You dare speak of the Wide-Leg jean? You think I do not know their secrets, their deep magicks, their bountiful pockets? You dare, even, to don them in my presence?
Ha! The youth mocks me with my own image. It was I whose jeans once billowed freely in the summer winds! The ancient labels: Pepe Jeans, True Religion, JNCO—I wore them all. You will never know their rivets as I have known them. You will never bear their weight as I have, heavy with mud and PBR. My denim was vintage, its holes earned through wear, not carved by the machines of many falsehoods!
Yes, it was I who did battle with the sorcerer Ed Hardy. And then we made love… the wallet chains of all the earth were surely rattled that day.
This was before I sold them. I sold my own Wide-Leg jeans for black skinnies that would achieve clout on MySpace…