Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Raw Denim


Madge Perkins has been having what might be considered the typical issues with her 15 year old know-it-all daughter. She has weathered the constant texting, the lack of any academic interest and a burgeoning interest in boys. Really, she reasons, all part of the "deal". Madge can still recall how she and Keith worked so hard to conceive Becky (Rebecca). Three rounds of IVF are not soon forgotten. Not surprisingly, Becky Perkins is an only child. Single child, IVF babies tend to be overvalued.

Oh, Becky hates the name Rebecca. The erudite, perspicacious thinker concluded about a year ago that the name Rebecca is for old ladies of the Bible. Madge, who knows Becky Quick of CNBC, persuaded her to write a note to Becky Perkins about the strength and beauty of the name Rebecca. The Rutgers graduate failed to convince the rebellious Becky of anything. In truth, Becky Quick is from another generation and thereby mostly irrelevant to Becky Perkins. Besides BP concluded that if BQ was so hot for "Rebecca" she would use the name "Rebecca Quick". The kid has a point.

This morning, well, was not good. Keith was at the table drinking some thick, black coffee. He never ate breakfast. Madge was trying to convince Keith to fertilize and seed the lawn, a job Keith hated even more than cutting and grooming it. In short, the parental moods were strained over grass care as Becky bopped down the steps. It was a school day, a Wednesday. Dressed in a too small white top, which was cleavage suggesting, and a thong,


the teenager drew the animus of Madge and Keith. Just like a hanging crane magnet draws up a junker Chevy. Thwaap.


K "Oh my God, where are your pants? What are you wearing?"

B "Oh Dad, pleeeeeeze, my jeans are in the freezer."

M "Whaaat?"

B "My jeans are in the freezer. Excuse me." The kitchen being as small as it is, required Becky to squeeze past Madge to get to the fridge.

K "What would your jeans be doing in the freezer?" Keith couldn't help but notice his daughters gluteal symmetry. This caused him no small degree of paternal apprehension. "Madge, why are you allowing HER to wear that kind of underwear?"

M "Me, listen Keith, I don't control THAT, and besides you know I hate those things." Indeed she did, Madge wore "old lady" undies. And although not said, Keith would love to catch Madge in a thong. Keith does have a computer and he does do some late night surfing...

As the parental units were hashing out the thong issue, Becky yanked a plastic bag out of the freezer. She pulled the plastic apart in an inglorious cave lady sort of way. A pair of rolled pants, partially unfurled, as she held the slacks from the waist. The raw denim was stiff.

K "Whaaaat?"

B " Dad, these are my jeans, obviously..."

K "Why did you put them in the freezer?"

B "Oh Dad, to kill the smell."

Keith looked like a man, who was staring at fire for the first time. Madge was equally perplexed. Both of them suffered from the disconnect with a younger generation that characterizes human relationships.

K "Why do they smell?"

B "Daaaad." Becky had by now pulled the jeans onto her body. At least the thong was now under cover. "You can't wash them for 6 months and they do get a little smelly..."

K Interrupting Becky, "When was the last time you washed those jeans?"

B "Never have, only been wearin' 'em for 4 months, 2 more months to go."

Before any more could be said, Becky rushed out of the kitchen. Her bus would be on the corner in 2 minutes and time was of the essence. She grabbed her back pack from the mud room, yelled out, "Later" and she was gone.

Madge and Keith sat at the table, both dumbfounded. Having a 15 year old can do that. It is understandable that they didn't know about raw denim and the craze. The idea was to not wash the fabric so that it would take on the wearer's personality, curves and creases. The longer worn without washing, the more personal the denim becomes. Some users like Becky "freeze" the smell and the presumed offending bacteria. Out of nowhere Madge says, "Keith, how do you think I would look in a thong?"

Before he could answer, she added, "I would need to, er, you know, trim."


Keith, who has done his research, smiles and replies, "Great, you would look great."

Neither knew a day with a bad start could turn out good. Really good. Really, really good. And so it goes.

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