I dared to roll up my jeans today

I did something that I swore I'd never do and that is wear my jeans rolled up
to just below my knees, folding a thick cuff that I pressed into place. I
figured if I was going to do that, I might as well finish it off with black
pumps sans hose. Sweater: 3/4 length sleeves, cashmere in solid black.
My husband didn't like it, though the ladies said that they wished they had the
courage. That was a lot of help. Any tips for the next time (if there is
one)?
Jeans were low–rise, size 12 and the denim was thin, which makes all the
difference when keeping the fold in place. Is size 12 too large for this look?

I've been rolling my jeans up to just under my knees for years. I love the
look. I've even ironed my jeans around the cuff to make it look more neatly
rolled. I don't think a size 12 is too large for the look. And I love to wear
my Birkenstocks with little frilly anklets folded down with my rolled up jeans.
It's a great look for great legs.
Marenah

EShellzo wrote:
rolled up
place. I
black
black.
they had the
there is
the
this look?
I was really tempted to do this a few months ago. I like the look where
it's cuffed to a capri–ish length (ankles showing). But I couldn't
figure out how to do it without the cuff falling down or puffing out
too much. Duh, never considered ironing them in place!!!
Kinda sorta not really related, I was just thinking this morning that
someone would make a mint if they brought into style a pair of jeans
that had a double hem: i.e., one hem at "flat shoe" length, and another
hem a few inches down at "high heel" length. That way, if you want to
wear flat shoes, you could cuff them under (perhaps have a hidden snap
or tab so it would stay put). If you want to wear them with high heels,
you uncuff. You'd see a double hem, but heck, maybe the look would
catch on and it'd be the next "in" thing in jeans????
jen

On 26 Oct 2004 00:27:28 GMT, evamare...@aol.com (EvaMarenah)
coughed and sputtered, and managed to choke out these words:
what size would be too large?
david
––
"Being lectured by the President on fiscal responsibility
is a little bit like Tony Soprano talking to me about law
and order in this country." –John Kerry

who are you, T.S. Elliot? Did you dare to eat a peach?
(If you do not know this poem, you will think that I am rude and crazy, so I
apologize, but if you know the poem, you will understand why I could not
resist...)

Lutachris wrote:
I did something that I swore I'd never do and that is wear my jeans rolled
I love that poem, especially the lines:
I grow old...I grow old...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
–––––from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot
Thanks for bringing a little poetry to my morning.
beeswing

lutachris wrote:
LOL. I didn't think anyone would catch that. I was feeling whimsical when
ironing my jeans (something, too, I have never done) and thought of that as I
was ironing.
A rose for you today, lutachris.

thanks!

I did like the poem quoted. It does fit subject line.
Mary
"In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but
planning is indispensable." Dwight D. Eisenhower

Richard Hunter wrote:
I guess I should have read your post before I posted the bit of the poem that I
just did. For what it's worth, I didn't go to Google for it; I knew most of
what I quoted from memory and filled in the bits I'd forgotten from an old
college textbook of mine. If people like T.S. Eliot's "Prufrock," by the way,
I'd highly recommend that they go on to read his poem "The Wasteland," if they
haven't already. Both poems number among my favorites.
beeswing

On 26 Oct 2004 04:22:59 GMT, lutach...@aol.com (Lutachris)
coughed and sputtered, and managed to choke out these words:
I did something that I swore I'd never do and that is wear my jeans rolled up
to just below my knees,
i had to google it: i'd never heard it, either.
The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock
T.S. Eliot
S'io credesse chc mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa Gamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno viva alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half–deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one–night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster–shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window–panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window–panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and, 'Do I dare?'
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair––
(They will say: 'How his hair is growing thin!')
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin––
(They will say: 'But how his arms and legs are thin!')
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all––
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all––
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt–ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all––
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt–sleeves, leaning out of windows?
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in
upon a platter,
I am no prophet––and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: 'I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all'––
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: 'That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.'
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail
along the floor––
And this, and so much more?––
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a
screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
'That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.'
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous––
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea–girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

On 26 Oct 2004 04:22:59 GMT, lutach...@aol.com (Lutachris) wrote:
I did something that I swore I'd never do and that is wear my jeans rolled up
to just below my knees,
I thought of that poem right away too :–). It's my DH's favorite, and
he manages to quote it every time we eat peaches.
Chris

Richard Hunter <returntosen...@ddressunknown.com> wrote in message news:<fiirn0h23ll7mt1ibkl5os2vol46vql...@4ax.com>...
I hate this look on everyone over the age of 10 myself, but I know
that's just my own thing.
I don't think it would be a good look on most women who wore size 20
or larger, unless they had very toned calves and ankles. Conversely,
I wouldn't recommend it for a size 6 who had what the folks at fugly
call "cankles".
T.

T. wrote:
I think it is all about proportion and balance, and in this case it is the
style of the jean combined with the shoe you wear that can bring about the
unbalanced look. You don't want to be a size 20 and have a tall thin (not even
stilleto) heel on when you're wearing your jeans this way. If you look as if
you are testing the laws of physics or the stability of your shoes, don't do
it. I know it sounds harsh, but the visual is what a good look is all about,
isn't it?
There is a visual balance that you have to demonstrate when wearing clothing––
shoes included. In the past I've worn a size 16 in clothing (not shoes, LOL).
I know what you have to go through to accomodate your wardrobe and have a good
fit and look though for me, personally, I was in a wheelchair for most of that
time in my life (3 months after spinal cord surgery) and that aspect of my life
(fashion) wasn't that important, but once I was out of the chair I was having
to make accomodations for sure.
JMHO, of course.

I hate this look on everyone over the age of 10 myself, but I know
that's just my own thing.<<
I do too. I don't think it looks funky or cool – I just don't get it.
No offense to people who do like it. It's just not my thing.
Unfortunately, I seem to accept trends when they're oh–so five minutes ago!
Ce la vie!
Brenda
"Life is what happens while we're making other plans" – John Lennon

eshel...@aol.comfortFood (EShellzo) wrote in message news:<20041027141902.24078.00002...@mb–m13.aol.com>...
I think that's very true. Even so, the lower calf and ankle is not
the best feature of very many round women (just like the decolletage
is not the best feature of very many angular women).
I love to see, say, Queen Latifah in a low–cut floor–length gown, and
Nicole Kidman in a high–necked slim sheath with a dramatically
high–cut slit. The reverse, on the other hand, wouldn't be flattering
to either woman.
But I have seen some round women with gorgeous, gorgeous calves and
ankles pull a look like this off, just as I have seen some very, very
slim women look fantastic in a low–cut dress.
T.

This seems like a good time to remind people about the AF Plus group. We
have a good group of fashionable plus sized women posting :)
We do moderate new members (unless one of us knows the person) in order to
keep it safe from people joining to spam or flame.
To join, send an email to:
AFplus–subscr...@yahoogroups.com
beth, back after several months

On 25 Oct 2004 18:06:54 –0700, "shinypenny" <shinypenny0...@yahoo.com>
wrote:
<snip>
Hey, I'd buy those. I annoyed just the other day because I realized
that the new cords I bought are too long to wear with flat shoes.
When I bought them, I tried them on with heels and was excited to find
a pair of pants that fit properly around the waist and butt. I didn't
stop to think about the length.
Katie

I was just at the Fresh Faces in Fashion show in LA and noticed tons
of rolled up jeans with high heels on women in the crowd. They were
mostly folded up in one big cuff about 5 inches deep. Loved the look
on the thin women (size 0 – 6 or so) but...
I wear a 32 in Sevens and it makes me look stubby legged. If I keep
the jeans rolled down to full length with great heels, I look soooo
much better.
"shinypenny" <shinypenny0...@yahoo.com> wrote in message news:<1098752814.013030.171...@z14g2000cwz.googlegroups.com>...