Feelin' Hot, Hot, Hot!

I wore white cropped jeans to work because it's hot.

There. I said it. My name is Blossy Bogan and I wear white jeans. I figure that if it was illegal to wear white summer-weight cropped jeans then they simply wouldn't sell them at Target. I read a magazine last week that indicated QUITE clearly that white jeans are for people like Elizabeth Hurley. In fact, she was pictured in white jeans. I'm not a bloody giraffe, but I reckon I should be allowed to wear white jeans too, especially when it's hot and EVEN to work. White's a cooling colour. And really, the fashion police have been quite slack in Bogan-ville-ea lately. It would seem to me that if patterned leggings with jelly sandals are OK, then bugger it, so are white jeans.

It's been hot, hot, hot in Bogan-ville-ea. Yes, yes, yes, not sub-saharan African-type hot, but HOT nonetheless. I did a quick survey at work yesterday to check if it was hot:

Me: Hey, is it hot do you reckon Floydie?

Floydie of the Cosmos (spraying own face with squirter thing filled with water): Yeah, it's hot. I was just on the oval. It's hot.
Me: Geez Fitzzle, it's bloody hot in your office.
Fitz: Yeah, it's hot. Can't think. Might go down the shops and get a lahhhh-tay.
Me: Good - oh. Not early onset menopause. It's hot.


See, when it's really hot or really cold the rules change. When it's really cold it's OK to wear uggies to the Hippodome to get the paper and a bottle of milk. No one cares because it's cold. So... when it's hot I get to wear white jeans. Or even... shock horror... a white denim skirt! (Although, quite frankly the jeans are a better option because they nullify the chafing factor on that nasty spot where my thighs, no matter how much exercise, will always rub together when I walk). I should explain that I have actually been known to wear winter-weight full length white jeans also, especially in Alaska whilst on a cruise in May. BUT, in my defence I was trying to look like a polar ice queen and had a matching parka and faux-fur hiking boots in case of emergency glacier shore excursions. So it really doesn't count.


Smurfette of the Outlets wore HER summer-weight cropped white jeans from Target to work on the same day as me this week (She wore the white denim skirt the day before... and... yes... shhhh... chafing issues!) I think Smurfette's jeans survived the work day a bit better though. Here's what happened to mine:

7:30 am - looked at self in mirror at home. (Babe, you look fab. YOU. LOOK. HOT. Great jeans! Yeah, wear the beaded wedges. Very Elizabeth Hurley with that extra four inches, yet can still walk fast if necessary)

8:15am - Enter staff kitchen. Jesus! Smurf wore her summer-weight cropped white jeans from Target today too! Now everyone thinks we text each other before work to make we look match-matchy! Arrghhh!!! Although....Smurfette not wearing beaded wedges. Situation may be salvaged. Mental note: no standing or sitting next to Smurfette today unless absolutely necessary.

8:30am: Fitz wants to know if she missed the text regarding White Jean Day or if we're just deliberately excluding her. Crap. Note to self: text Smurfette tomorrow to check what's she wearing... just in case.

9:10am - Crap. Just walked quickly down the hallway whilst carrying cup of coffee. Slurped over the edge. Dodged quickly (excellent reflexes Blossy!) but five... no... six large coffee-coloured blobs are now on white jeans. Bugger. Thank goodness the regulation issue hallway carpet is a) dark blue and b) already filthy.

9:12 am - Staff toilets surprisingly cool today. Must be the tiles. Dabbing white jeans to remove coffee blobs unsuccessful. Turns into scrubbing and now looks like my right leg went for swim in the dunnies. Damn. Now my coffee's cold. Go nuke coffee and decide to drink it in situ (Note to self: no walking with coffee when wearing white jeans).

11 am - Small child has just noticed icky reddish-brown mark on left knee of white jeans. ("Errr!!!! What's that? Is that blood? Did you fall over? What happened to you? Ewww!!!!") Crap. Bugger. Damn. What the heck IS THAT mark? Sit down and examine left knee. Bloody crayon. That'll need Sard Wonderspray for sure. Stupid white jeans. Bet Elizabeth Hurley doesn't get coffee slop and crayon on HER white jeans.

1pm - Choose today to eat half-decently healthy lunch instead of nuked vegemite sandwich flogged from the communal freezer. Cherries. Another note to self: learn to spit cherry seeds into hand gracefully instead of doing target practice into plastic cherry punnet. Sigh at the 'oversplash' now on right thigh of white jeans, but congratulate self on not having brought a pomegranate for lunch. Could have been MUCH worse.

2:20 pm - Why are Smurfette's jeans clean? What's wrong with me? Am I disabled?

3:10pm - Am hot. Look at dishevelled self in mirror of staff loos. May as well swim in dunnies now. Will at least be cool there. Turn and check arse of jeans in mirror (am very flexible). Yep. Am now renaming self Grotty Bogan.

5:00pm - Brad the Tradie rings to tell me he feels crook and has just spewed all over his work uniform. Final note to self (this time on a post-it note so I don't forget): duck into Woolies on way home for extra Sard supply. Then hire a maid.

Stupid white jeans.