Jeans

Ever since my early teens,
When off from work or school,
I’ve always like to dress in jeans,
‘Cause denim seemed to rule.

Of course, they were called dungarees
And only came in blue;
And when they ripped right through the knees,
We knew just what to do.

We’d sew a patch right on that rip
Or else we’d throw them out;
‘Cause pants with holes was just not hip –
It was a poor man’s shout.

Today, with denim still in style,
The choices do astound.
Just hit a store and stroll the aisle,
For jeans are all around.

Low-slung, studded, tight, distressed,
In colors of your choice;
What you pick out when you get dressed
Reflects your novel voice.

Yet in my closet, I can’t find
One pair of jeans I like.
My fashion sense is way behind
Or maybe just on strike.

It once was easier to choose
From Wranglers, Levi’s, Lees,
But jeans so varied do confuse –
I miss my dungarees!