My Relationship With… Jeans


I met my boyfriend in the first year of University and after one too many drinks began talking to him, went on a date, and the rest they say is history. However, unbeknownst to him, our relationship is not my longest. My longest relationship is in fact with denim, namely jeans.

It all began at the age of two. My mother bought me a pair of jeans with pink frills along the hem lines. The childhood pictures of me in said jeans feature a beaming toddler, which I like to think is due to the start of a wonderful relationship with denim.

Picking the perfect pair of jeans is like picking a soul mate. You trail endlessly for a pair that will accept you, and provide comfort at your worst. Yet make you the envy of every woman in the room on a night out. I recently stumbled across the jeans that God made especially for me. They do all of the above, and don’t cut off the circulation in my legs, which has always been a problem for me with jeans in the past. However, these fit me like a glove, and came in at the student friendly price of £24.99.

After several washes they didn’t shrink, which again speaking from past experiences has caused me umpteen amounts of denim nightmares. But, one fateful day, before moving back up to university, I decided to paint my nails. I then proceeded to spill white nail polish on my bed sheets, and then sit in the polish in my beautiful jeans. I scrubbed with acetone, practically using my tears to try and clean them, but the polish would not come out. I have now had to mourn the loss of my denim loves.

Now, my relationship with jeans has become somewhat fraught after the ‘nail polish gate,’ but I am still unable to cut the cord, if you will, with denim in general. But, you may be pleased to know, I have stayed away from white nail polish, and I have a new pair of jeans (minus the stain).

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