The Baggy Jeans Revelation: A Surprising Lesson in Parenting

I’m painfully aware of the trend of baggy jeans, but I just don’t like it. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become increasingly drawn to clothes that actually fit. Hence, my involuntary facial expression of disgust when I had to pay for a pair of baggy jeans – jeans that easily had enough fabric to make two regular pairs.

My Cost-Centres and their Baggy Jeans

But Cost-Centre Two (CC2) really wanted them. First, he really wanted to ditch his skinny jeans because his friends laughed at him. To be fair, in my defence, all jeans looked like skinny jeans on him because he’s well skinny! At 185cm, he’s barely 63kg after a meal. (I know for a fact because I just checked.) Another reason is probably that his big brother, Cost-Centre One (CC1), wears exclusively baggy jeans these days. Peer pressure from both sides!

Yes, I’m going to call them CC1 and CC2. If you’ve ever read Mrs. Money Penny’s column in the Financial Times, you’ll know the backstory. It’s such a great alias that I couldn’t resist borrowing it. For those who haven’t read the column, here’s the gist: In business, a “cost centre” is a department that generates costs but no direct profit. Mrs. Money Penny used “Cost Centre” to name her three children, and I’m doing the same here to my two teenage sons – because, let’s face it, raising them is just a continuous operational expense. It’s not an investment because I’m not expecting a return, to me, anyway. If there should be a business case, it’ll be a negative one – but hopefully a positive one for them and their future families.

He want one and he got one!

Let’s get back to the baggy jeans. What truly bothered me was that CC2, who should wear a size W29, wanted a pair of W33 baggy jeans – jeans that are already of a baggy design, even if he bought his own size. He needed to use a heavy-duty leather belt to hold his pants up. I swear, I felt clumsy and uncomfortable just looking at him, feeling it on his behalf. But he wanted them. I have had so many reasons pop up in my head that I think I could use to turn down this request. But, somehow, I also countered them myself and hence concluded these weren’t good enough arguments. Exhausted, I decided that his fashion choice wasn’t where I’d use my grit. Hence, I paid for the jeans.

At this point, maybe you’re thinking: Is there even a point to this story? Why should we hear about your son’s baggy jean obsession? Well, honestly, I’m not sure, but I do have a reflection on my apparent tolerance or flexibility displayed in this event. And, you’re here anyway, so why not just hear what I want to say?

What changed me?

What surprised me in the process was – I became one of those mothers that I never thought I’d be. I accepted and willingly contributed to something that I didn’t agree with. This is so out of character for me. By paying for the baggy jeans, I supported the business case for this fashion trend. I know I always thought that I’m flexible and open-minded – but honestly, I always know I’m telling a white lie. What I meant is that I’ll try to be flexible and, when needed, I’ll even pretend to be open-minded and refrain from rolling my eyes in public.

I always thought I’d be a strict mother who raised two rather boring, well-behaved boys that followed nothing but my instructions. (In this case, there would be no baggy jeans.) My sons might still think I’m a strict mother, but seriously, they have no idea they’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg of what I’m capable of. And they aren’t anywhere close to boring or well-behaved. They have had enough mischief in school that there were times I would get nervous when I needed to open the school communication portal. They are two “living” proofs that I did not become that (strict) mother – for better or worse.

However, it was not a conscious decision though. By paying for the jeans without even starting a debate, I evidently changed. So, the big, looming question is: Did I change simply because I got older and more tolerant? Or because of parenthood? Or did I just pretend I changed but deep down, I’m still rolling my eyes all the way back into my head? Honestly, I don’t know, and I suspect I’ll never know. Maybe all of them played a small role in this outcome. I know I am secretly wishing that he believes that I could be flexible whenever possible and hence next time when I am more persistent, they might understand that things cannot be flexible and our advice might be worth a listen. I’m curious if it will work. When I figure out it, I will let you know.