I have been on a mission for a pair of white pants since before the writing was in the wall (in blood and a bold type face) for American Apparel.
White Jeans: An Annual Tradition.
Since I was 15 my routine had been to buy a couple pairs of Slim Slacks at SXSW when they'd have the pop up warehouse sale, get one white pair and one colored pair. With the white pair specifically, I'd wear them for several months, then dye them olive, then a brown, then black. Then I'd crop them a bit and wear them like that for a while. Then cut them to the knee for the summer. Then cut them to the thigh for the dog days of summer. Then start hunting for my next pair.
Then, in 2014, I went to American Apparel to get a pair and I couldn't find them. At that time, there were two stores within a mile of each other. I went to both with no luck. Then I walked all of North Park in search of a white jean. The way these hunts go is pretty formulaic by now. In the first few stores, when she sales associates say "Can I help you find anything?" I just say "oh, I'm just browsing" even though I know what I came in for. Then around the third store I'll say "Do y'all have any white jeans in store right now?" but by the last few, their casual and non-committal "Is there anything we can help you with?" is promptly answered with an exacting "Yes, I'm looking for a white high-waisted, straight leg boyfriend jean in a heavy twill (about 10oz or more), with very little stretch that isn't distressed. Do you have anything like it?"
They never do.
I Give Up
The white flag metaphor isn't lost on me. I haven't had a pair of white jeans since 2013, and while I really would love a pair (oh, the possibilities) I've just given up all hope for now. So maybe I'll just be content with this skirt in the meantime.*
*of course I won't