I will admit, at first I was unsure how I needed “slick plastic panels” to “bare my knees for a futuristic feel” in my “mom jeans,” but now that Nordstrom has mentioned it, I’m discovering the ways my mom life could benefit from such a thing.
What are “mom jeans” exactly? Oh, glad you asked: They’re jeans signaling the degradation of fuckable woman body, characterized by a large, flat ass, marriage and a minivan, and complete surrender to never being hot again.
The jeans themselves are characterized by high waist, tapered legs, and throwback denim from the 80s. These exact jeans are considered hip and trendy on other bodies, so the real key to recognizing “mom jeans” is the ability to apply a misogynistic gaze to determine if the wearer is still meeting the requirements of “hot thin young woman,” or not. Give it some time. You’ll figure it out.
Anywho, back on topic.
As I mentioned, at first I was unsure how and why I needed plastic panels on my knees, but since the advertising guys are always correct, I simply put my mind to it and realized there are at least 15 ways I can benefit from strategically placed knee panels:
- I can’t lie. I have on occasion been disturbed by my wardrobe’s total lack of “futuristic” allure. I mean there just isn’t enough sci-fi space vibe to my daily attire. I feel so present-day earthy. Total drag. So Nordstrom, for a mere $95, really spoke to the exact sartorial motif that’s been missing in my life.
- Now, not only can I be spacey cool, when my kid vomits on my legs, I can simply Windex that shit.
- Also if I happen to piss on myself and it gathers in the knee area. You know what? That’s a stretch. I never full-on urinate in that manner in my own jeans.
- Or if I need a spot to do a line of cocaine.
- Please forget that last one. I am simply brainstorming potential uses.
- I can also have more consistent knee visibility during colder months when shorts aren’t an option. One of the big problems in my life is that I can’t see my knees at all times. I need little windows to my knees.
- Why? Well, to assess whether or not I need to shave, or maybe they’re fat. Do I have fat knees? I should go running. Nobody likes fat knees. Little knee windows allow me to assess fatness and hair density and length, allowing me to more fully meet the expectations of how you think I should look.
- Wait omg. Also OTHER people can assess my knees. Hallelujah! Freedom!
- It also sounds fun to sweat against the plastic during hotter months. If I sweat, will the windows fog up? That sounds fun. I hope they sell anti-fog knee-panel spray and that it’s available on Amazon Prime.
- Plastic knee panels would serve as a tiny adorable slide for my toddler, turning me into a living play structure!
- Also, my kids may enjoy covering the little panels in tissue paper and glue, like little stained glass pieces. That way, I could wear my child’s art at all times, which has always been a goal of mine.
- Or, I could tape things to the inside of the panels, perhaps little Post-it notes with my shopping or to-do lists, or daily affirmations such as, “You are a bright shining star.” Happy reminders, you know, to stay positive while I make a casserole and wait for my husband to come home.
- But most importantly, plastic knee panels help me remember that I am a unique individual. I can be a mom and wear funky cool things and really stand out, like in high school when I decorated the soles of my Doc Martens with black permanent marker. My individuality has not been erased by these kids. Thank you, Nordstrom, for understanding that. Thank you for seeing the ME in here.
- Um, well, hmmm. I’m working on more uses. A portable plate for my toddler to eat off of! (Easy clean-up too!) No grass stains! The ability to teeter on my knees on wet grass without my jeans getting wet! That’s something I often want to do.
- You know what. That’s all there is. There are only 14 potential benefits of plastic knee panel mom jeans, but that’s good enough for me, because if you tell me something’s cool and necessary, I AM WITH YOU ALL THE WAY, AMERICA.
Look, the key to a meaningful life is writing ridiculous lists of useless information. Find out how! Let’s do it together!
We start on April 5! Join us! So many exclamation marks!