What feels like five lifetimes ago (but in reality was about 2 years ago) I was shopping with my (then) girlfriend when we made a stop by The Gap. Now understand that I am not a ‘shopper’ and I don’t go peruse stores looking for things to buy. If I need something I buy it, then I go home. For the most part she was the same way, so shopping was never the excruciating experience some boyfriends make it out to be. But I digress….

We popped in The Gap because I knew I could use a new pair of jeans. I, for the most part, wear baggier clothing, but I needed some jeans I could wear to the office and not look like I just came in from the weekend. She had been telling me that I needed some ‘skinny jeans’ for some time, so I decided to make the move. At that point I was wearing a size 36 waist, loose fit jeans. I pulled out the least fake-faded pair of Levi’s I could find–some straight cut, 35 waist Levi’s 1969′s. They fit snug, but they weren’t shrink wrapped to me, and I was told “They make your butt look cute.” Naturally I was sold.

Over the next few months that pair of jeans found themselves in regular/heavy rotation, getting the call for work and social events. All was going well, until I injured myself playing racquetball.

I had to call it quits on just about every physical activity I took part in. Waiting for my body to repair itself was an excruciatingly slow process. During that period I ended things with my girlfriend, and life in general felt dark. I noticed the skinny jeans were becoming tighter and tighter (no surprise there, I wasn’t working out). When my wallet wore through the right butt pocket because it had been stretched so much, I knew it was time to retire them.

My skinny jeans were tossed away into the bowels of my closet, and were long forgotten about.

Last January I was finally healed, and I started the slow process of getting back into physical activity. Using my Wii Fit to chart my progress, I began to get back into shape. Within a few months I was looking at a tumbling downward trend on the weight graph, and all of a sudden I was sticking extra holes in my belts so I could synch down my pants and keep them somewhere near my waistline.

It was at that moment I remembered the skinny jeans.

I dug through my closet and pulled them out, still sighing at the worn through right butt pocket. I was nervous about putting them on. Just looking at them was bringing back memories of that shopping trip, the girl I was with, and the person I was when I bought them. But, one leg at a time (someone tell me who puts pants on both legs at a time) I slid into them, and marveled at myself in the mirror. The last time I had worn them they were tight in the thighs and difficult to bend down and tie a shoe in; now they sat comfortably on my waist and barely hung off my skin. I–and my skinny jeans–were back.

The next few months brought my skinny jeans and I closer than ever before. Sure, I had to abandon the back pocket, but they were comfortable, and that hole was something people seem to pay hundreds of dollars for in designer jeans.

Then one day I found myself in a place I never thought I would be….the skinny jeans were too big. I stood in front of the mirror, this time in disbelief–it didn’t seem possible that I was about to put another hole in a belt to keep the skinny jeans up on my waist. I smiled as I thought about the journey I had been through with these pants, and what it meant to retire them again, but for the opposite reason.

It was a good feeling, like I had come back from two terrible places–injury and loneliness–only to return stronger than before.

I realized there was only one thing left to do, and that was go out and buy a new pair of skinny jeans. So that is exactly what I did–some straight cut, 33 waist Levi 1969′s–progress is a great thing.

So why should you own a pair of skinny jeans? Maybe you should buy a pair that you want to fit into, and that is your goal. Maybe you have someone for whom you want your butt to look cute.

Or maybe you just need a new pair of pants.