Every Friday is casual Friday. We’re allowed to wear jeans to work. Which I find simply preposterous. We’re adults. We’re in a business setting. Let us decide what is appropriate to wear and what isn’t. But I don’t set the policy.

For the first year at my office, my dress never changed between “business casual” Monday through Thursday and “casual” Friday. I always wore skirts or dress pants on Fridays. Then my co-workers started teasing me. “How come we never see you in jeans?” “Hello, there, Miss Fancy, too good to wear jeans?” “Do you even own a pair of jeans?”

I was embarrassed to admit that no, I did not. Well, I did. I do. One pair. From college, over 10 years ago. That were ripped and torn and faded and so not appropriate for anything but drinking cheap drinks in a dive bar. I’ve never thought I looked particularly good in jeans, so I never really focused on making them a part of my wardrobe.

My girlfriends decided to remedy the situation. One Saturday they took me to Gap. They were an excellent support system, bringing me multitudes of sizes, cuts, colors, and styles. And they were decisive. “No.” “Absolutely not.” “Mmm… no.” “Check out your ass!” So that was the pair I got.

As we were leaving Gap, we noticed the promo playing on the instore televisions featuring Missy Elliot and Madonna rapping, singing, dancing, all about Gap jeans. At some point someone in the video said, “Where’d you get them jeans?” and it’s stuck. Emmy and Tricia played out the situation come the next Friday in my office. I’d walk in, all sassy, strutting my new blues, posing by the copier, all the while the other office workers following me, spinning, imitating Missy and Madonna, their speech punctuated with, “Where’d you get them jeans?” A modern day West Side Story.

Each time I wear them out, Em and Tricia still comment, “Where’d you get them jeans?” and snicker.

I was having a particularly rough day at work today. I emailed Em for emotional support. We had plans to see a show tonight. I mentioned I wanted to go home after work, and change into my red cowboy boots and jeans to lift my spirits. She responded with, “Red cowboy boots and where’d you get them jeans are always good for the soul. Ole!” Couldn’t help but laugh.