You Wanna Know What Comes Between Me and My Daddy Jeans?

“Dad jeans” are notable for being remarkably unremarkable. defines “Dad jeans” this way:

“Jeans that are no longer fashionable and are usually characterized by a tapered leg, high waist or brand name that was cool about 10 years ago. Dad jeans are typically worn by aging men with salt and pepper hair who are in denial that they are no longer hip, have children and drive a station wagon or SUV.”

I was blissfully ignorant of this derogatory term until recently, when my wife made reference to it.

It turned out that I was a dad jeans frequent flier. (“Clothes Really Do Make the Man” and “Daddy Jeans Revisited.”)

In my defense, I like to dress for comfort.

I am self-conscious about looking too paunchy in the poochey, which is why I tend to get pants that are a little looser in the waist.

With my height, though, it means they are saggier in the butt.

But when the pants are tighter in the butt, they tend to be tighter in the waist which, I think, accents my gut.

Hence the dad jeans look.

The last time I gave jeans style a thought was when I was a teenager and I owned — I can admit this now — a pair of Jordache jeans.

Hey, don’t judge! It was the ’80s! Everybody was doing it!

My wife, bless her besotted self, tells me I have a comely tush that I keep well hidden in what amounts to balloon clown pants.

Pedro tells me I could rent out the extra space I have in my pants and easily get $1,500 a month rent for it in New York City.

So as a present for Father’s Day, Meg and my youngest son Daniel, took me shopping for pants.

This trip required that I:

  • Try on each pair
  • And model them for approval from the judges.

I HATE clothes shopping. And the only thing I hate more is having to try stuff on in fitting rooms.

I much prefer to go to the rack or the shelves, find my size and proceed to checkout. Easy-peasy!

jeansThe trip to the mall is featured in our latest podcast, which pays tributes to dads, Father’s Day and, of course, dad jeans.

I will say that as a result of the shopping expedition (and Meg’s
abundant patience and encouragement), I am now outfitted with several pairs of good-fitting jeans.

The lesson I learned?

I will take the time to try on clothes and no longer shop for jeans by the seat of my pants.

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