Jeans | Belfast, ME | 2018
Bertha, the maid who took care of us as kids, used to say she knew everything about me when she hung my jeans on the line. Frayed hems: “You a sloppy walker,” she said. Worn seat: “Lordy, too much TV.” Broken zipper: “I don’t even want to guess.” And it’s the truth. A pair of worn jeans drying on the line is indeed a pure expression of the owner’s personality — every rip and wrinkle. Catch it in the right light, and that comfy denim seems enfolded in life, a bearer of someone’s joys, woes and secrets.