I’ve got a lot of hobbies. Sailing. Raising alpaca. Writing Bablyon 5 slash fiction. But none of them are as fun as my main hobby: finding new fade patterns in jeans.
Back in the day, you would see all sorts of fade patterns in jean pockets. Wallets. Coins. Tobacco cans. They were a little peak at the personality of the person wearing the jeans, and hinted at the rugged nature from which denim grew.
But all the cowboys nowadays are all dead, or have been forced into the demeaning dude ranch industry. And, like the cowboy forced to help the overweight dentist onto his horse so that said dentist can be made to feel like a man for a moment, so too must denim sell its soul to make ends meet. Long gone are the faded, rough denim of yesteryear, supplanted instead by prissy “selvedge” and rope-dyed, Japanese denim fawned over by neo-fops the world over. And with these new urban cowboys come new denim pocket fade marks. No more dip cans, instead only iPhones:
Have I mentioned my other hobby: taking furtive crotch shots.