I found this kind of funny and smirked to myself. Then I remembered how I sometimes spent my time just sitting in cars with friends, two particular friends actually, and laughing at people outside, just making up stories of what they were getting up to.
Today's incident reminded me immediately of sitting outside a house I lived in North Fitzroy. It was a funny period. I'd had my heart broken pretty badly and was feeling very insecure and unsure of my place in the world.*
Anyway, I was sitting with my friend in her car just fantasising about taking off and going where the wind would take us Thelma and Louise style. Meanwhile a neighbour from across the street drove up, parked her car and got out. My friend noted her appearance - steel grey no-nonsense bowl hair cut, glasses, gnarled yet wiry frame, windcheater and slacks and the house she was going into - wildly unmaintained garden, broken gate and determined she was a Witch. A Part Time Witch. We imagined her witch's hat thrown in the back of the car and left for the next shift. I don't know, it was bloody hilarious at the time but I can see how that's not probably translating right now. Five or six years later I actually used this idea as a premise for a kid's comedy series pilot I wrote for my screenwriting course.
Ok the other one. I can see this is probably heading in the same non-funny direction but whatever!
Quite a few years earlier than the Part Time Witch flight of fancy, I was with another friend sitting outside a 7-11. We were about 18 and I and my friend were still living in our respective family homes and really enjoying the freedom of a car. So what did we do? Drive to the local 7-11, get slurpees and smoke cigarettes. For hours. Over time we did venture out of our suburb and start doing drive-bys and staking out houses of the boys we liked but that's another story.
So we were sitting there and this middle aged woman (probably younger than I am now. Fark) kind of prances into the shop. We watched her the whole way. She had a permed bob and very typical 'mum jeans'. High waisted which showed off her saddle bags well. Around this time, we spoke in character of two older suburban bogans. Their names were Brenda and Gloria and, I kid you not, sounded exactly like Kath Day Knight. We were Kath and Kim before Kath and Kim. Or so we like to think.
So in character we started pretending to be the woman in the 7-11 - while she was in there waiting in line. We imagined her night with the kids, trying to get them to eat their 'tea' of pie from the 'good' bakery and beans. We imagined her complaining about her 'fella' not lifting a finger to help. We imagined her purchases of Nescafe and panty liners. And everything was prefaced with 'Bugger it.' The line that still remains to this very day is the Bugger It Jeans. We imagined her never buying jeans and the ones she was wearing that night were a new purchase. The moment where she went 'Bugger it. I'm buying some jeans'.
So while all of you out there refer to those ill fitting, unflattering jeans as Mum or Mom Jeans, they will always be the Bugger It Jeans to me.
* I would have gone on to call it a phase but since I'm still feeling this way almost twenty years later, I can't really do that. I can say that I am feeling insecure and unsure for very different reasons though at least.
