Mom Jeans = Boyfriend Jeans Minus One

For the past two months, I've woken up every Saturday with the same mission: a. eat a bagel with lox, b. find the perfect pair of mom jeans. By perfect, I mean Sisterhood of Traveling Pants made-for-my-body jean except I have no intention of sharing them with anyone. By mom jeans, I mean high-waisted, lightly faded straight leg jeans. I feel like I've written a post on this before, maybe not though, but I do think about these yet-to-be-in-my-possession jeans all. the. time. Since I'm not willing to pay more than $100 for them, I've had a hard time finding them, especially because I'm imagining a pair of Acne ones in my head. I've been to multiple Beacon's Closet locations multiple times (there are only a few, but each is a journey); Housing Works near my work and my apartment, and any other thrift stores/Salvation Army hotspots I can find. I've concluded that as with most pieces of ordinary apparel, you can search far and wide, but you'll always find it at the Gap.

Though the Gap isn't avant garde enough to be selling mom jeans circa now, they do sell a mean boyfriend jean inappropriately named The Sexy Boyfriend. This bothers me for a few reasons. First, the word sexy makes me feel uncomfortable. Second, it's a reminder to single women everywhere that since we don't have boyfriends, we have to buy our own men's jeans--we can't literally 'borrow from the boys.' Wutevs. To be honest, I hadn't read into it that much until I wrote that sentence a second ago. Anyway, I went to the Gap today because I had a vision in my cubicle around 2 PM that I could just buy a pair of boyfriend jeans one size smaller than my usual pair and they'd be the mom jeans of my dreams. Four hours later, I stood in a dressing room with my hands on my hips in pair of snugly mom-ish jeans. Inspired by own clairvoyance and the crooning (?) voice of Flo Rida in my headphones, I went to the cash register and bought them.

Huzzah. Oh yeah. Mission accomplished.

I'd stay around and put together an outfit college and/or proofread this post, but I decided two days ago that Anthony Bourdain is my new role model in the sense that I want to be him, and the first step to doing so is by streaming Parts Unknown on Netflix, so that's where I'm off to.

Before you go, take a moment to appreciate the above celebrity couples that didn't last, and the boyfriend/girlfriend jeans trend that did. Images via Irispancy.

Mom Jeans

Attention, attention: Mom jeans are coming back.

The high-wasted, straight-leg, faded and sometimes ripped look that constitutes the much-parodied mom jean is back. Jean Stories recently shot Doutzen Kroes in a pair of "a real mom's jeans," so-called because they belonged to the stylist of the shoot's mom. I've been seeing mom jeans on the racks lately, but it didn't resonate with me until after I tried on a pair of jeans whose strange cut made me question if I was in too-small boyfriend jeans or too-large skinny jeans that the 90s cut might be back. Turns out they were mom jeans that just didn't fit right.

(Sidenote: When I was in ninth grade, I had a crush on a boy whose girlfriend (spoiler alert: she wasn't me) wore mom jeans in a non-ironic way. My whole world went dark when I realized that the L of my L preferred a girl who wore mom jeans with Asics to, well, one who believed that Asics should only be worn when on a run. The boy's girlfriend clearly had more important things to do than belabor over her weekday outfits because she went on to the type of Ivy League school that prefers applicants whose extracurricular activities include fencing, not cutting cross country practice.)

Let's talk about how to wear mom jeans. Since the high waist is an integral part of the style, the pants should be paired with a top that accentuates it, like a tucked-in T shirt or a cropped sweater. A belt would bring more attention to the waist, and since we're channeling the 1990s, a thick brown belt will do. As for shoes, maybe a pair of heavy-soled oxfords or better yet, a Penny loafer? We could honestly get this whole look from the Gap circa 1995 for under $100.

MiH Halsey Jeans, Rachel Comey white top, Acne cropped sweater, ASOS Jacquard jacket, Bass penny loafers, Dr. Marten's Irene shoes , Rag & Bone belt

Quilted Bomber Jackets, Who Knew?!

I saw a few quilted bomber jackets while racking through offensively color schemed striped shirts at The Gap the other day, and I DIG THEM.

First, a word on The Gap. I don't love the Gap, but it's such an effing (my computer just tried to autocorrect effing to offing like, 10 times--ain't gon' happen) institution that I can't help but instinctively go in and buy striped tops and jeans when I pass a Gap store. I used to stroll through The Gap at the Sangertown Square Mall (a leading competitor for the number one spot on the "Most Depressing Malls in America" list) when I was stressed out in college. I also used to impulsively buy capris at Gap Kids when I was in fifth grade. I have a lot of Gap-related stories up my sleeve, but I'll save them for when I'm the star of a future Gap campaign (#backtoblue, bitchez).

Anyway, they def got it right with the quilted bomber jackets. The jackets come in navy, light blue, and off white, and in a floral pattern whose practicality I'm not sure I can justify. They remind me of a few quilted outerwear pieces from Timo Weiland, both of which are men's (as all good items of clothing are).

Quilted tops, be they from The Gap or from a contemporary designer, are amazingly versatile. They can be worn under thicker coats in the winter, or over a sweater in the warmer months. Burberry quilted jackets are a little too "I'm an aspiring squash mom"/"154 days until The Hunt" on this side of the Atlantic, but I #respect the people who wear them because they will have them for forever, and I love when clothing becomes sentimental.

Anywhooze, the Timo Weiland vest below is on sale!! Buy it and let me know if you do so I can "borrow" it accordingly.

Top two jackets are from The Gap; bottom two are from Timo Weiland, Church's chukkas (ugh, I love chukkas), 3.1 Phillip Lim track pants