There I was, minding my own business at my favorite hang-out Amore Coffee when this guy came up to me. He was probably not much older than me, say in his fifties, and he had a touch of what I like to call "the fabulous accent." Anyway, he said, "I just want to compliment you on your cut-offs."
I looked down at my paint-stained, obviously homemade cut-off shorts and thought, "Is this guy being a jerk?"
Apparently sensing my concern, he went on. "No, really," he said. "They're genuine, you know? Not like those fake ones all the kids are wearing. If you're going to wear jeans old jeans they should be really old. Otheerwise why not just wear brand-new?! I mean, just look at yours! They have paint splotches and uneven cuffs. I have an old pair of jeans like that and they're precious."
I'm still not sure if he was putting me on or what. But I feel like I got a taste of what my life would be like if I lived in Southern California, ie people thinking I was making some kind of fashion statement with my slovenly, lazy ways.
