Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Forever in Blue Jeans

"Honey's sweet,
But it ain't nothin' next to baby's treat...
Forever in Blue Jeans."

Again with Neil and the sex. Did I have a problem with my mom shakin' baby's treat for Neil when the song was released in 1979? No. Is there an issue with me being the sweet honey in my tight blue jeans in 1982? No. Would I be upset about Neil crooning to my 12-year-old in her tight cutoff jean shorts? Hell yeah.

I try to be a cool mom, really, I do. (Actually, it's more about my desperation to cling to my youth, but looking like I'm trying to relate to my pre-teen daughter seems less pathetic.) I listen to 3OH3! and Linkin Park. I took the kids to see Coldplay. I read the entire Twilight series and watch the movie with my daughter regularly.

But the other day, when she came down the stairs to go to the high school football game in cutoff jean shorts and a black tank top, the line was drawn. I cracked.

Me (in shock): Gasp. "Uh-uh!"
Daughter (sounding bored and irritated): "What."
Me (rising hysteria): "I can't do it!"
Daughter: "What."
Me (voice goes up an octave): "I'm trying really hard, but you aren't leaving the house in that!"
Daughter: "What."
Me: "My job is to protect you, and I cannot unleash you in public in that outfit. I'm trying, but that is just out of my comfort level!"
Daughter: (sigh.) "What's wrong with it."
Me: "At best, you are going to get a yeast infection. At worst, you are going to get violated. You have to pick: Cut off short jean shorts and a t-shirt with sleeves, or longer shorts and the tank top."
Daughter: "Mom, everyone is going to be dressed like this."
Daughter: "Whatever." She leaves to change.

She came down the stairs a few minutes later in a longer pair of shorts, and after refusing my multiple requests to wear a hoodie to the game in 80 degree weather, we left. When I picked her up, the other kids at the game had done their job - my daughter was covered in gold glitter, had a gold ribbon in her hair and tied to her flip flops, and was wearing gold Mardi Gras-style beads. There were no dollar bills in her waistband, and she was happy. So I bit my lip and cranked up the Linkin Park and took her home.

Now the dilemma goes the other way. So that I may pretend it is 1987 and The Joshua Tree just came out and I'm 18 and listening to "With or Without You" for the millionth time (before "Friends" ruined it), Current Husband and I are going to a U2 concert in Chicago on Sunday. To lure The Edge into being my second husband, I went out to buy new jeans. My choices were Curvy Low Riders, which make you look like a Krispy Kreme storage facility with a coin slot, or Skinny Jeans, which looked great on 1984. If I came around the corner and my daughter saw me in Skinny Jeans, this is how it would play out:

Daughter (in shock): Gasp. "Uh-uh!"
Me (sounding surprised): "What?"
Daughter (rising hysteria): "You can't do it!"
Me: "What?"
Daughter (voice goes up an octave): "You aren't leaving the house in that!"
Me: "Why?"
Daughter: "I cannot unleash you in public in that outfit. There is no flippin way."
Me: "What's wrong with it!?!"
Daughter: "Everything. I don't want to hurt your feelings but those jeans are staying home."
Me: "But Skinny Jeans are in - everyone is dressed like this."
Daughter: "I DON'T CARE IF EVERYONE ELSE'S MOM LOOKS STUPID, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO THE CONCERT IN THOSE JEANS! (quieter) ...and the other kids will talk about me."
Me: (sniffling) "I guess, if you think so." I leave to change. I'm stuck with Current Husband. No Mrs. Edge for me.

So Neil, I may not be Forever In Blue Jeans, at least not in Skinny Jeans. And my daughter has a new "three inch inseam" rule on her cutoffs. It is an impasse. But I think as long as we both follow some "Don't Humiliate Me" guidelines in our wardrobes, we'll be alright. As always, Neil says it best:

"And if you pardon me,
I'd like to say
We'd do okay
Forever in Blue Jeans."


Anita said...

Now this one, I love...and I can even hear the "Whatever." And I still get creeped out by the term "Babe" when directed at a person, such as "Thanks, Babe"... And as a commentary on skinny jeans, I was turning my oldest daughter's size 0 skinny jeans inside out to wash and my arm about got arm. Jes_s.

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