Tag Archives: memories

Design classics: Levi’s 501s

These guys first appeared in the 1890s, look on the label of any pair of 501s and you’ll see a Wild West inspired logo of cowboys on horseback emblazoned in red. Iconic, classic, unisex and universal…everyone has had a pair of these in their wardrobe at some point in their lives, even my dad!

I practically lived in my 501s in high school; we wore school uniforms almost every day but as soon as ‘civvies day’ rolled round I had my favourite jeans on and the ubiquitous crop top or bodysuit (this was the mid-90s after all).

I have a vivid memory of turning up to a birthday party in blue-black 501s and my favourite red plaid flannel shirt during the era of grunge and Kurt Cobain. Of course everyone in our year was invited because it would be rude not to.

My best friend, a Kate Moss Cosmopolitan-editorial-hippie rather than the vegan, bean-munching kind, pointed out I was wearing the same outfit as a boy in our class who I’d never really spoken to before that night. Somehow just that wee detail made me look at him in a different light, and by the end of the night I had the biggest crush on that boy in his blue-black 501s and his red plaid lumberjack shirt. I kept glancing at him across the bowling alley, a little too shy to speak to him, tugging on the sleeves of my shirt and wanting to blurt out something silly such as ‘I like your jeans’.

I’ve since owned and worn a million pairs of jeans in every brand, colour and style imaginable. I haven’t owned a pair of 501s in years, but when I think of these iconic denims I’ll always be reminded of being that 14 year old kid getting all googly eyed over a boy for the first time. And that is a memory that still makes me smile.

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Gilmore Girls, wistful looks and soft-focus memories

I just finished watching an episode of Gilmore Girls that always makes me a little sad.  It reminds me of missed opportunities, and I inevitably start thinking about the way my life could have been.  How melancholy.

In “Chicken or Beef?” (Episode 4:4), Rory is home from Yale or the weekend, and is unexpectedly invited to her ex-boyfriend’s wedding.  This guy was her first love; they met when they were teenagers, and she traded him in for a guy who turned out to be a bit of a jerk.

Years ago, I dated a guy; we were very young, and at one time I believed we’d be together forever.  He was a good guy.  On our first date, we weren’t allowed into the movie we wanted to see because we were too young; so he took me to see some random film that was utterly boring except for one uncomfortably saucy scene.  We shared popcorn and held hands, and after we left the cinema we walked about in the snow for hours, still holding hands.  He walked me home and kissed me.

I went away to finish high school in another city, because I wanted to get into a good university.  We stayed in touch, and he promised to visit me.  School was so busy, my classes were super-hard, I was on the track team, and as a senior, was doing plenty of volunteer work to occupy my time.   We still saw each other at holidays, but by the time it can to sending off my university applications, we didn’t decide to factor each other in.  He’d never considered leaving the city to study, and I had my heart set on going somewhere thousands of miles away.  I don’t know if he was upset by this, but he never let on.  By the time I left for college, we’d split up.

When Rory looked wistfully on at the wedding, from a safe distance, I couldn’t help thinking about the-one-from-way-back-when.

Memories are strange; some moments appear so clear and precise, whilst others linger as such hazy recollections you begin to wonder whether they ever happened at all.

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