I have a confession to make. I think I might be the only female in America that hasn’t embraced white jeans.
To me, white jeans are a girl’s anti-girdle. Just trying on a pair in a badly lit dressing room highlights every post-baby-44-year-sag-snap-and-pop from my ass to my ankles. White denim has the ability to turn the tiniest bloat into a gigantic jiggle. And what might appear to be a bitty booty into a Kim Kardashian badonkadonk contest.
Don’t get me wrong. White jeans look good on some people.
Especially eleven-year-olds and anemic runway models.
But mine DEFINETELY make my ass look big.
And white denim after Labor Day?
I Just. Can’t.
Oh I know we received notice from the fashion police in New York, LA and Paris years ago that winter white is back. But when you grow up in Texas, I’m sorry, but even if it’s 98 degrees on Labor Day, there’s an unwritten rule. (No actually I think it WAS a written rule when I was growing up) that it’s a “Don’t” to wear white pants or white shoes after Labor Day! And white denim? Fugetaboutit.
Don’t you dare think I’m a walking fashion “don’t,” because I love my Vogue and I bought a pair of faux-white denim pants a few years ago to see if I could slowly cross over to the white-threaded trend. What in the name of Levi is faux white denim, you ask? OK, let me see if I can break this down: Brands like Krazy Larry’s make these button-less pull-on “wonder” pants that I swear erase all the bubbles. Think Golden Girls slacks minus flowing rayon with a splash of Spanx-ness. They look like jeans. But they’re not. And they’re not to be confused with Pajama Jeans!
They squeeze your “marshmallows” together to make you look fantabulous.
They’re magically delicious.
But they’re still white pants.
And I’m still me.
I think I’ve worn them five times in three years.
The last time I wore them, I ate a slice of pizza at my daughter’s school picnic and spilled about a spoonful of marinara sauce in an area you don’t want to see a spoonful of anything red.
And I digress.
Now that it’s AFTER Labor Day? Well, you can forget about seeing me wear white pants until Easter Sunday.
Unless of course, we’re talking cream-colored winter wool.
Bah. That’s material for another time.