Non-Mom Jeans, or, You Don’t Know What You’ve Got Till It’s Gone

I have never been the most fashionable dresser. Not when I was a teenager, not when I was in the working world, and certainly not now that I am a stay-at-home mom. But I’ve tried to avoid the most egregious fashion faux pas, and I think I’ve been pretty successful, with one notable exception: I wear mom jeans.

They’re not the worst mom jeans. They’re not the old 1986-style paper bag waist jeans with a waistband that hits about 3 inches above the belly button. They’re not pleated. But they certainly aren’t low-rise skinny jeans. They’re just your basic, waistband right around your belly button, mom jeans.

So I really felt like I was taking a big step a few days ago when I bought a pair of genuine, low-rise, boot-cut, non-mom jeans. And at the risk of sounding like I’m bragging, I’m kind of rocking them. But at the same time, they make me realize exactly why mom jeans are mom jeans. And there are a few things I can tell I’ll miss about my mom jeans.

The most noticeable difference between these jeans and my mom jeans is that these jeans stop about 2-1/2 inches below my belly button. [Brace yourself, here comes an actual photo of me – and my belly button - in these jeans.]

This may seem like a minor difference, but there are a number of implications. First of all, you’ll notice a slight bulging over the waistband. Mom jeans are high enough to nicely contain that little muffin top. Gravity nudges the flab just low enough that buttoning your mom jeans perfectly encloses those extra pounds like a neat little drawstring bag. Non-mom jeans squeeze it up over the top like an uncapped toothpaste tube.

Another issue with low-rise, non-mom jeans is that those 3 inches you lose includes the pockets. Jeans pockets end at the same point on your hip no matter where the waistband is. So instead of my nice, deep mom jeans pockets that could easily hold an entire Kleenex pocket pack and a matchbox car, I have a 1-inch deep flap that tauntingly holds one neatly folded, unused Kleenex. And by “holds,” I really mean “holds,” because non-mom jeans are snug enough at the hips that I’m never going to get that sucker out without a pair of tweezers.

And the final issue with non-mom jeans is the dreaded “whale tail.” At least, with sweet young things who wear this kind of jeans, it’s a whale tail. Older ladies who may (or may not; I don’t presume) opt for slightly more coverage in their undergarments are likely to reveal something more properly described as a rhinoceros tail. A peep of granny panties is noticeably less sexy than a glimpse of thong. And a glimpse of thong in a granny panty size is even less sexy than that. So without sharing my particular preference in undergarment types, let’s just leave it that whatever tail I’m showing when I bend over in these non-mom jeans is something that nobody wants to see. (Hence the lack of another actual photo of me at this point. You're welcome.) And let’s face it, with a 1-1/2-year old and a 3-year old, I’m bending and stretching enough that my tail will be showing plenty.

So how do I solve this problem? I can answer that in two words: Untucked shirt. Or possibly three: Fabulous, untucked shirt.

No muffin top in sight, no tail or any kind showing other than a shirttail, and long sleeves so I can tuck a few Kleenexes in there for emergencies. You can take the mom out of the mom jeans, but…