I confess. All my jeans are Swedish.
Before leaving San Francisco in December, I purchased a pair of what at the time were the best-fitting jeans I’d ever worn. Handed to me by the clerk at Rolo, with her suggestion that I just try these on, I fell in love with their ideal balance of skinny and not-skinny. I immediately bought them, along with an olive Nice Collective jacket.
Stuck in Heathrow a month later, flipping through the Lonely Planet guide to Stockholm, I saw a mention of Acne jeans, pioneers of the skinny leg. I blinked, and contorted myself to see the label above my butt. Sure enough, Acne. I was headed to Sweden wearing Swedish jeans.
Today I went out to refresh my dwindling supply of jeans without holes in key places. I’m not sure what happens to my pants—bicycling, motorcycling, climbing, dancing, drinking, [falling down]—but they all end up dying a slow death. So shortly before executing an entirely graceless low-speed high-side off the Ducati—my first, and right in front of Desmosport, YES—I paid a visit to Rolo Garage.
Rolo Garage on Howard Street has Acne jeans for $80. Eighty bucks. Anyway, happy dance, shortly after sadface when my calves didn’t fit into the black jeans I also tried on.
Extra bonus shopping win: Before jeans & T-shirt purchase, I went to REI to replace my time and Pista-worn approach shoes. Until March 30, REI is giving members 20% off on any single item. That, and I had a fat dividend to spend. I walked spending less than half of what the Merrells cost new.
In conclusion, I R HAPPY WITH NOT SPENDING THE MONIES. Also, this post brought to you by the letters G, A and Y.