Denim Blues

As I put away my jeans today, I noticed how thin the knee fabric was and it concerned me. Deeply. Then I thought, why are you worried about jeans? My jeans are my old friends. I was introduced to denim when I was a pre-schooler. Blessed with pioneering grandparents who had emigrated from their early holdings in Saskatchewan in the days when it was called Assinaboia, I went regularly to their retirement farm in what was called Haney in the old days. The farm was haven to my many cousins who were sent there during the summer vacation while our parents did a couple holiday. We didn't miss them one bit.  The country place was vast, at least a section on a mountainside tribuatry of the Allouette River. The one of the small streams filled with September salmon, so many you could walk over them if you wanted to. There were horses to ride bareback, cows to watch being milked and warm hens eggs to collect. In short, The Farm, was heaven to us. Our grandparents let us free and the only requirement was that we appear for breakfast, dinner and evenings of playing Rummy with Grandpa. We went deeply into the woods and forded fast running streams. We climbed trees and fished with safety pins. We had complete access to the various waterfalls and streams and fields. Denim was the choice in clothing and shoes were an option. We wore then, something called overalls and  yes, they were the bib kind. We didn't know about fashion but our denims often did sport a fallen shoulder strap. Later on in life, there were "pedal pushers" made of denim for bike riding around my town and still later, denim skirts and jackets were considered "in". The best part of denim is that it can be worn almost to rags and still look fine. But now denim has reached fashion heights and has become a must for all closets. Some jeans are bejewelled, others, ripped in intriguing places, still others go off to work. But denim remains and doesn't lose its value as is seen as young women plying the second-hand stores looking for jeans of certain numbers. I am not a great fan of denim as formal attire but it has been seen more than once at film openings and upper end parties in big cities. My favorite jeans, and I have many pairs, are the ones that I am afraid to wash. They are simply too fragile. I do them by hand in mild soap and water and agonize over their time left. They are pale blue with whitish knees and skimpy in other worn places. Their seams are still trustworthy but the hems are becoming finely threadbare and in places the gold thread is looking dangerously thin. My formal jeans are dark blue and do not have orange stitching. I feel safe wearing them with a tweed jacket and good blouse or tee, to go out shopping or to a movie or out on a date. Their only requirement is a pair of sexy navy heels but just try to find some. It seems the world is not doing navy shoes that go with jeans. Light blue shoes to match the truly worn pair, my favorties, are impossible to locate. I have tried. Desperately. I have even resorted to painting  pairs of Birkies to match my jean colours. Latex paint works best but these days of slender coiffed feet and Italian sandals with delicate strapping, the Birkies are left to us, the older set, to clump around in. Long live all old jeans!