For a few months now, there’s been some handwringing online over denim—are skinny jeans over, is low-rise coming back?—and it seems a lot of women are worried about a new denim cycle starting, one in which they’ll somehow be left behind.
I have no real skin in the game when it comes to denim. I’ve worn all the styles (except bellbottoms) at one point or another, and have come to the conclusion that I just don’t like the feel of jeans, and I don’t have to wear them if I don’t want to. But I do understand the dread that comes with feeling like the fashion world is moving on without you—as well as the desire to keep up with trends in order to appear young and relevant. One thing I’ve discovered about aging is that our outsides get old much faster than our insides, an incongruity that creates some confusion and no small amount of angst.
I suspect, though, that the angst around denim styles doesn’t only come from a fear of aging. I think it’s also because many of us hate maintenance. We work hard to build a somewhat fashionable, reasonably dependable wardrobe and then—boom!—the fashion industry tells us everything we have is out and it’s time to start over again.
For me, maintenance is the worst. Doing the dishes. Keeping the house clean. Packing school lunches. Washing masks. Charging my phone. Colouring my greys. Filling the gas tank. Going to the dentist. Clipping my fingernails. Paying the credit card bill. Having to figure out what to eat when I just did that a few hours ago. Ugh. It’s all maintenance, all the time.
I’ve joked in the past that if I actually did all the maintenance I should be doing, I’d have no time to live my actual life. But now I’m starting to wonder if maintenance is actual life? My mind fights against that thought, of course, because it’s been shaped by a culture that prizes the narrative arc, where all points of a story lead up to a final, satisfying conclusion. I feel deep within myself that life should have some sort of trajectory (or at least linearity), and once I’m done with something, that should be the end of it.
But like fashion, nature is cyclical. We live on a spinning planet and wake up each day only to start again. We orbit the sun, each year returning to where we began, a little older and wearier, but often no wiser. All the other living things on earth move through endless cycles without complaint. Humans are the only ones who fight it.
Lately, I’ve been asking myself whether I can find meaning and beauty in maintenance—whether I can be ok with my life even when it’s not “going anywhere” or “heading in the right direction.” I think about what Heather Havrilesky writes in her book What If This Were Enough? Here’s a bit from the last essay in the collection:
Living simply today takes work. It takes work to overcome the noise that has accumulated in our heads, growing louder and more pervasive since we were young. It takes works to overcome the illusion that we will arrive at some end point where we will be better—more successful, adored, satisfied, relaxed, rich. It takes hard work to say, “This is how I am,” in a calm voice, without anxiously addressing how you should be.
And:
We are called to view our actions as important, with or without consecration by forces beyond our control. We are called to plant these seeds in our world: to dare to tell every living soul that they already matter, that their seemingly mundane lives are a slowly unfolding mystery, that their small choices and acts of generosity are vitally important.
Oh boy. How did we get from skinny jeans to the slowly unfolding mystery of life? I’m not sure, lol. A better writer would give you a satisfying ending, or at least close the circle somehow, but I’ve totally derailed myself with these ramblings. I hope you’ll forgive me. I should really try to maintain some semblance of order around here.
:) Teresa
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I so relate to this post! I also don’t like maintenance, although my worst are cleaning the bathrooms, washing the dishes, and planning meals. And I have also wondered, now that I’m in my 50s, if this is “as good as it gets,” to quote a movie that is not nearly as cool as the essay you referenced. I’m glad I’m not the only one having these thoughts. Oh, and I had to buy some new shorts this week (thanks, pandemic weight gain!) and came home with — high-waisted jean shorts. It still feels kinda wrong to be wearing something that feels like it was last in style when I was in middle school, but I’m hoping I’ll get over it. The 20-somethings helping me at the cute boutique near my house liked ‘em ;-)