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Holey crap

A regular recent fear: leave the house, get half way along the road, realise from the cold on my backside that my oldest skinny jeans have finally worn right through.

It has been getting colder and colder on recent walks, and I could see through the material when I folded them after washing, but each time I’ve had this sensation, I have persuaded myself I was catastrophising.

Today it was so cold in the spare room that I had a similar feeling, although of course without the frisson of public exposure.

Sure enough, a hole has developed. The jeans are now in the bin, to avoid forgetful fulfilling of my fearful prophecy. 

By the way, these jeans used to be black. Do they not make anything to last these days?

Erm – probably now five years old and worn endlessly. But still…

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