Purchasing distressed denim (or any denim, really, that I can't wear to the office) always causes me a certain amount of, well, distress. It's hard to justify a pair of jeans that, by their holey nature, can only be worn two days a week. And yet, the last two pairs of pants I purchased were so ripped up I look like I got in a fight with a bear. As my father would say "I can't believe you PAID someone for those." But I did. Twice.
So what is it with this obsession with the "bad-boy" of denim. No longer in my twenties, am I still falling victim to the siren call of what I can't have, only now in the sartorial sense? In other words, perhaps my obsession is based on the fact that, as a professional, I am not supposed to be wearing jeans with even the slightest fray. I know my money is better spent elsewhere, and yet the attraction of wearing shredded ultra-casual, "I don't care" denim gets the better of me...always. Or maybe, after a long week of being buttoned-up and pressed, all I really want is to be comfortable come the weekend. You decide. Either way, it isn't the first time I bought something I knew was somewhat impractical because style outweighed my sense of reason and I am certain it won't be the last.