So.  A few weeks ago I ordered a pair of jeans online because they were a good deal and I knew my size in that line.  Well, they came in the mail and I tried them on and discovered they were a trouser cut.  I was expecting something more along the lines of a boot cut, since (silly me!) that is what they were described as.  I immediately decided I would not be wearing these out on the town but I figured they were a decent option for work so I went for it.  After all, they were comfortable and a good fit and doing a return for an online purchase just seemed too daunting.

The first person to comment was Jessica, a coworker and good friend:  “Are those new jeans?  How cute, a trouser cut!”  So I’m thinking, okay I can totally wear these to the office.  Then Becky walked by to see if I wanted to grab some breakfast from the deli downstairs that we lovingly refer to as Deli Slime.  “Hey, want to get something to eat from – whoa-ho-ho, what are those?  Oh my GOD!  What are you wearing?!  Are those… are those mom jeans?”  I tried explaining to Becky that although the cut was admittedly rather conservative, they were certainly not mom jeans.  First of all, mom jeans have a high-rise waist that gives the illusion of a pear-shaped bottom spanning an 18-inch longitude of booty.  The ones I was wearing couldn’t even be considered a mid-rise.  Second, mom jeans are tapered around the ankles; these were not.  But Becky just laughed and asked, “Are you going to Slime with me or not, ma?”  I figured whatever, at least Jess will stand up for me.

Wrong.  Somewhere between “How cute, a trouser cut!” and 9:45 a.m., Becky got a hold of Jessica and changed her mind because for the rest of the day I endured ribbing from the self-appointed Fashion Police: Becky (the girl who wears brown Uggs with black tights to the office EVERY day) and Jessica (who wore a pajama top to work last Thursday).  Maybe I wasn’t doing the pants (or myself) any favors by pairing up the jeans with a pastel cardigan from J.Crew but I think they went too far with an interoffice memo advising our coworkers that from now on I would prefer being addressed as “mom.”  Okay, so they didn’t send out an actual memo, but they threatened to.  With really serious looks on their faces.

Now that we’ve established that Becky and Jessica are the antagonists of this story, let’s take a look at what legitimate mom jeans look like.  Exhibit A (below) is a classic example of mom jeans.  Note how the elongated waist rises above the model’s elbows.  Another key detail you will notice is the tapered leg.  I have seen some dads wearing this same style, but we can be fairly certain this particular model is a mom because she is sporting mule-loafers (which is a whole other issue that I won’t even go into today).  Now let’s look at a more modern version of the mom jeans.  Although Exhibit B is making strides and breaking down fugly barriers with its skinny cut and darker wash, it still manages to give mom the comfort of knowing her ribcage is securely fastened in a cocoon of denim.

                     Exhibit A                                                 Exhibit B
Exhibit C shows a trouser-cut jean, much like the ones I wore on the fateful day narrated above.  Observe the sleek, untapered aerodynamic tailoring in the leg.  Notice the reduced square acreage of pelvic surface area.  This is no mom jean.  I do not wear mom jeans.  My mom doesn’t wear mom jeans (HI MOM!! *frantic waving*).
                    Exhibit C                                     Borat-Approved            
The moral of the story is not that mom jeans are bad.  I mean they are, they totally are, but that’s not my point.  The moral is: don’t tease me anymore because now I have a blog and I’ll write about it and tons of people (at least four of my immediate family members) will read about it.  *Sassy finger-snapping in a z-formation.*