Ragged Jeans

“Where are you goin?” No answer. “Mom, where are you going?!” She finally answers “Do I have to report you where I go to every single time? Why? Oh, I know your plan. You just want to stay home if I’m out and you go out if I’m home. Right?” This time, I don’t answer but just wear my ragged jeans then go out quickly. On the way to subway station, I send her a text message. “I was gonna ask you to watch new movie with me about a mother…ha…” She replies. “Ah~ you could’ve explain it first. I missed it!” My mother is like a little girl sometimes. She gets very emotional and sentimental. But that’s what keeps her to breath. I arrive first to the movie theater to check the schedule and calls mom. “Well, I can reserve that movie now and wait for you if you still wish to come, mom.” I ask her with a bit of forgiveness. She says. ”No, no, no, no. I told you before that I have an appointment! You don’t remember, honey?” Now, I’m pissed off. “Remember? Who said not to ask where you go? Who said that she doesn’t want to report every single detail to me? Nevermind. Whatever.” I hang up with anger. As soon as I hang up the phone, this insane old man stares at my jeans and yells at me. “What the hell is wrong with you!?!” I run away from him but feels extreamly bad to cry. Awful start....

 

At least to cheer myself up, I decide to watch a movie alone. But my anger didn’t go away yet. So, I just walk. Walk and walk through the crowd. However, this time, I feel everyone’s stare. Do I have something on my face? What? No way… my ragged jeans?!?

 

First clue, ragged jeans are old-fashioned. Second clue, I have a boodylicious ass. The last clue, because it is out of rules. I’m not a trendy person. I do not care how pretty it might look but my own comfort when I wear a cloth. And when I wear the most comfortable, I look the best. But in this hot and supposed- to-be-happy-day, I cannot stand people’s stare. It is painful. I go straight to the department store and seek for comfortable, trendy and normal clothes. In search of it, I look like a victim in a tv program called .In that program, victims look for a fashionable clothes that doesn't really fits to them but what everyone says gorgeous within limited time. Finally I got the most trendy jeans: skinny jeans along with a only-girl’s box tee saying “All you need is LOVE” and 10cm leather high hills. I run to the toilet change head to toes and wrap up with making a poop hair just like a trendy Japanese girl. Normal. I feel normal now. Feeling like I was stoned, I look totally different now. I look normal.

 

I go through the crowd again. I’m normal. No one really stares at me in a weird way. But on the way home, I’m thinking, “what was I doing?” Was it because of fear? What did I fear then? Then was I rebelling by wearing a ragged jean? Am I not able to express myself in this city? Or am I not able in my mind anymore? Suppose that staring was a torture for rebellion. Am I happy now after the surrender? Being normal..what would be the true meaning of being normal? Or was I acting insane after the yelling of insane old man?

 

Finally, I realize that I regret now. I’m not happy at all. I swear that I will walk again through the crowd with a pride of my ragged jeans.

J.