Dolly Parton Wouldn’t Sing About These

Last week we took granddog Ivy back to Georgia to be with her family after our dog-sitting stint.  Since she was Dearly Beloved’s walking partner on his long daily jaunts,  it is an understatement to say that he misses her.  The lonely Maytag repairman is a party animal by comparison.

My grandsons fancy me a “sew-er” and line up any mending when they know I’m coming.  This time, a large stuffed animal, its leg dangling, needed surgery.  Its owner, Little Elmo, was delighted at the outcome.   Being a hero to a five-year-old is a wonderful, smoochy delight.

My sewing skills are pretty much confined to mending because of lack of talent.  It’s the buttonholes that foil me.  When I used to make dresses for myself, I’d sew in snaps and put buttons over them so that I wouldn’t have to deal with buttonholes.  I don’t trust that method any more.  Either snaps aren’t what they used to be or more of me is expandable.  One good sneeze out in public could get me arrested.

Dearly Beloved has a pair of jeans he finds especially comfortable and he has put my mending skills to the test.  One knee split long ago and I mended it.  Sometime later, he asked me to do it again.  This time, he asked would I use a patch.

The jeans belong in the garbage.  In the past, with his other “favorite jeans,” I’ve sewn patches inside the knee and then stitched the outside together so that it wouldn’t show.  Not this time.

Wiser these days, I have come to realize that what constitutes a “favorite pair” is any that  Mr. Non-shopper does not have to go out and buy for himself.  The ones he has are some the kids have given him over the years.  The current favs have strings hanging from the bottom and threadbare sections in potentially embarrassing spots, though I doubt he’d be arrested.

I rifled through my scraps and came up with a riotous fabric from some project, as well as some dark denim patches that had a ten-cent price tag on them and are surely older than me.  With these props, I “fixed” the jeans, believing that my efforts would speed along the decent burial they deserve.  

The rear has more of the denim patches dotting the seat.

Side note:  Whenever he used to receive an oddball article of clothing as a gift (usually from his mother who couldn’t keep her sons’ sizes or preferences straight) he would tell the children that “this will be something good to wear by the fire.”  

I thought that at best, these would be relegated to fireside status.

Last weekend when we were getting ready to go to Georgia, he put on the jeans, but I thought it was while he was packing the car and that he planned to change for the drive.

Oh, no.  He wanted to “show these babies off to the boys” when he met them at the bus stop that afternoon.  That meant he also wore them inside when we stopped for lunch someplace in South Carolina.

Yesterday he had his car inspected.  I didn’t see him when he left, but he returned– wearing them.

He wears them on walks,  admitting that he does get some odd looks and funny smiles.  He says they’re thinking, “Now there’s a guy who’s comfortable in his own skin.”  

I doubt that.

He completes his look with a Rastafarian belt which doesn’t match the patches, but does go well with the Bob Marley music on his iPod.  Mainly, it holds up his pants since his waist has shrunk from all that walking.

He has the jeans on again today.  This time he has matched the patch by wearing a red, white, and blue plaid shirt.

To mix my metaphors, I have decided that if you can’t beat ’em, fight fire with fire.  I have just the equipment. . . my red sweatpants, which he detests.  I found them at the back of a closet shelf.  I’m not sure how long I’ll have to wear them before he retires those ratty-looking jeans.

I’ve heard so much bull on the televised campaign trail that I do have a lingering concern about these red sweatpants.

Just to be on the safe side, I won’t go near any cow pastures.

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13 thoughts on “Dolly Parton Wouldn’t Sing About These

  1. Well…the jeans are pretty stylish in a 60s sort of way…does DB own a bandana? If you put on your red sweatpants and the two of you take a field trip to Walmart..who knows you could end up famous!

    I am sending this post to my mom…she will feel your pain.

  2. The jeans are fabulous! I daresay, however, that in those jeans he’ll be an even bigger target for lemonade- and cookie-selling kids.

    Perhaps some creative stitching on the “rear panel” of your red sweatpants will motivate DB to hang up his jeans – for good!

  3. Marcie

    I can so relate to this story! My Mr. IBM guy with the dark blue suits and snowy white shirt, now looks like Mr. Goodwill guy! I took one of his “favorites, torn jeans and a ratty shirt and deep sixed them at the club dumpster so he couldn’t pull them out. What are these old dudes thinking?
    Katy’s Mom

  4. Well, that’ll teach you. Next time you repair something, make sure it can be worn in public.
    By the way, my sewing is limited to repairing these days also–in the absence of grandchildren, our dog makes up for it. She knows I repair the toys she chews up, so as soon as I get out the sewing basket, the dog runs up waiting for each toy.
    And, I confess–I did master button holes, both stitched and bound.

  5. At first I was going to give DB a few magic words, “L.L. Bean.” They make the most comfortable jeans; they fit well and they have free delivery right to your door. Then I decided that a guy who walks around with such brilliant patches on his britches has no need for new jeans. And he’s right…Bob Marley makes for perfect walking music, not to mention the mood elevation that equals Prozac.

    After my husband went into practice, he had dozens of pairs of hospital whites. He made crude cut-offs (I’m talking a pair of scissors cut-offs, lengths uneven and no hems) and wore them while working in the yard. Once after we moved to a new neighborhood our neighbors invited us to a dinner party. When I introduced my husband the hostess tried not to laugh as she said, “We thought he was your yard man.”

  6. those jeans are very stylish……I like the idea of him being Mr. Goodwill….it seems fitting…
    And I’m so glad I am not the only person who can’t make a button hole….next time your down in Atlanta we should get together for lunch if your in town for a few days…..would love to meet you.

  7. I so sympathize with your Dearly Beloved. I too have a favorite pair of jeans that I’ve patched to death (albeit with that iron-on glue tape stuff because I don’t possess a lick of stitch ability). I still wear them all the time everywhere. They’re wonderfully comfortable.

  8. I believe your beloved would feel comfortable walking into I-Hate-Safeway naked. Because he’s so comfortable with his own skin He probably never has those dreams where he arrives at a fancy function and realizes he’s not wearing his clothes. You’ll have to go in the other direction and ditch the red sweats. Perhaps thank him for all the money he’s saving and tell him you’ll use it to buy new clothes for you. I see a new leather jacket in your future.

  9. Love the jeans! We do the same thing when I know my mother-in-law is coming. I have a basket in the guest bedroom just for setting mending aside!

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