An Awakening by Bethany Kestner

As of a few weeks ago, my favorite article of clothing was a navy blue hoodie that I bought at a seafood restaurant in Cannon Beach, Oregon. On the front it says, "Eat at Mo's" and on the back it has a picture of shark jaws with the words "Bite Me" inside them. I sometimes worry that it might be offensive to people who see me in it, but more often than not, I have catered to comfort over fashion decency, and that hoodie is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn.
I like to think that I'm not a slob, but as a stay-at-home mom, my opportunities to dress up are few and far between. This spring, however, is my ten year wedding anniversary, and my husband and I will be celebrating by making a trip to New York City to take in a Broadway musical and try to squeeze in the whole "New York experience". Perhaps that is what my husband had in mind when he picked out my Christmas present this year. I have a very firm idea of what kind of style I would like to have if I weren't a mother of four boys who spends most of her time wiping lunch up off the floor and trying to make every dollar we have stretch into two. Back in November I found on the Internet a long-sleeved black t-shirt that was covered in a sweet pattern of rhinestones. I'm not talking the kind of shirt that looks like it's been "Bedazzled" by a crafty grandma, but the kind that looks a bit like a sparkly tattoo. The price tag was a hefty thirty-two dollars, and I couldn't imagine spending that much on a t-shirt! I could pay the gas bill with that, or buy three days worth of groceries! So I showed the shirt to my husband and told him that if it happened to go on sale between then and Christmas, it would be a great gift for me.

A week before Christmas, Mr. Husband came home from the mall with a bag that contained one gift-wrapped box for me. As I was balancing the checkbook later that night, I couldn't help but notice the debit from the store at which he had done his shopping. I was a bit sick when I saw it, because I couldn't imagine how two-hundred dollars worth of clothes could fit into one box! Guiltily, I ventured a peek at the receipt in his wallet to see what, exactly, he might have chosen for me. When I saw that he had spent $76 on a pair of jeans, $78 on a shirt and $35 on a belt, I instantly felt sick to my stomach and desperately tried to figure out how I could return all those items without hurting his feelings. I realize that seventy-six dollar jeans might constitute a cheap wardrobe addition to some people, but I can make seventy-six dollars stretch further than a pair of spandex shorts over Kirstie Alley's backside. Seventy-six dollars in our house is a fashion fortune.

As Christmas drew nearer, my husband tried again and again to get me to open that gift early. He was so pleased with his shopping prowess that he couldn't stand to wait another minute to see the expression of glee on my face for what he had purchased. Finally, I gave in, determined to let him down as gently as I could. I was quite flattered that he thought me to be worthy of such expensive clothes, but sensibility must win over fashion, right? I opened the box and pulled back the tissue paper, and the jeans that fell into my hesitant hands were the hottest jeans I have ever laid eyes on. Dark blue, with a lighter wash from the thigh down to the subtle boot cut at the bottom. Low-rise waist and just the right amount of flair on the back pockets. I tried them on, just to humor my husband, of course, and they fit as though the designer had taken my measurements and crafted them especially for me. And then I was torn. My practical head kept telling me that I needed to return the pants and buy three pairs of jeans at a cheaper store, but every other part of me was screaming for my head to shut up. I went back to the box, simply to satisfy my curiosity as to what a seventy-eight dollar shirt might look like. "It looks like me," is what I thought when I saw it, and then I knew I was in trouble. I was a changed woman, knowing that I would never again be able to turn up my nose at any well-made piece of clothing, claiming that anyone who buys such extravagant clothing is simply being ostentatious. People buy seventy-six dollar jeans because they fit, and they feel good! Just by trying on those two items, I had been converted to a believer in fashion investments.

It goes without saying that I did not return the gifts that my thoughtful husband bought me. (Though, the mystery as to how a man who wears basketball shorts and BYU t-shirts every day of his life managed to shop so successfully for women's clothing remains unsolved.) The shirt and jeans are now tucked safely in their very own dresser drawer, waiting for an appropriate occasion at which to make their debut in the outside world. I now spend my toilet-scrubbing days fantasizing about where I might go in those seventy-six dollar jeans that I never knew I had always wanted. As for my navy blue "Eat at Mo's" hoodie, I think I'll still wear it from time to time, but only while weeding the yard or taking out the garbage.