My mother had a great sense of style, and no matter what she wore, she looked fabulous. She picked out my clothes for me till the time I went away to college and I had no problem whatsoever with that. I have never had any particular interest in shopping for clothes.
Since I’ve been out on my own, I have worn whatever’s required for work, and in my off-work hours it was strictly jeans and a t-shirt or a sweater. Now that I’ve retired from working for other people and have been working for myself, it’s jeans and t-shirts or sweaters all the way.
I’ve long been a fan of shopping for nearly all my clothes at thrift stores (I draw the line at buying underwear or shoes there, let me make that perfectly clear). Since I’ve been on Weight Watchers for just over a year, I have lost 35 pounds (with more to go) and it makes no sense to buy brand new clothing when my size changes from month to month. So I have been visiting the thrift stores more often.
And thus I have discovered that the manufacturers of women’s jeans do not believe women need real pockets. Before I caught on to this, I bought a couple of pairs of jeans with pockets so short I could barely fit the length of my fingers in them. (They went right into our donations bin–no sense hanging on to stuff that doesn’t work.) Maybe other women just use the pockets for decoration, but I keep stuff in my pockets. Always.
I have a nail clipper in my pocket just like my dad did. I have a plastic carry case with earplugs in it (because my hearing is so sensitive I can’t survive in the outside world without them). I have a Victorinox MiniChamp knife, because you never know when you’ll need one of those tools or a tiny ballpoint pen. And I have a teardrop shaped, clear quartz stone that I’ve carried around for close to 30 years.
That stuff takes a certain amount of pocket depth. I do not want to risk losing any of it. In fact, I put away my stone because it fell out of my pocket so many times (fortunately, here at home where I can easily retrieve it) and started carrying a much smaller, less lose-able stone instead. (Story of stone-carrying, a hereditary trait, something to be told another day.)
So it is clear that I am out of step with what is fashionable once again. If I find jeans that fit me at the thrift store, the first thing I have to do is push a hand into the pockets to see if they’re real or just a fashion accessory. I put back a lot of jeans that would otherwise be fine. And there’s no consistency among brands, either, so I can’t be assured that I pick this or that brand I’ll get actual pockets.
What’s a non-fashionista to do?