Younger Son’s 20th birthday is coming up. (Yikes. How did he get this old when I clearly have not aged at all?) Naturally, I asked him what he wanted for his birthday.

“Another pair of distressed jeans,” he said.

Because—brace yourself for the irony—his favorite pair of distressed jeans has a HOLE in them. Yes. Read that again. Slowly. Somehow, I felt like I’d entered the Twilight Zone.

Apparently, these jeans have crossed the invisible line from fashionably distressed into tragically unwearable. Somewhere between “edgy” and “call a tailor,” they lost their social security.

For those Boomers and other sensible adults who may have been living peacefully under a rock for the last several years, allow me to explain. Distressed jeans are denim jeans that are intentionally made to look worn, aged, or damaged. The distress is added on purpose—either during manufacturing or by the wearer—to give the jeans a casual, broken-in vibe. In other words, they’re not falling apart by accident. They are falling apart by intention.

Standard distressed features include:

• Rips or holes, often at the knees or thighs
• Fraying around hems
• Fading or whiskering (lighter areas meant to mimic years of hard labor, even though the wearer has never mowed a lawn)
• Patchwork or exposed threads
• Rough, uneven edges

They’re popular because they look relaxed and lived-in and—according to AI—“add texture and character to an outfit” and “pair well with casual, edgy styles.”

Sure. If AI says so.

Me? When MY jeans get holes in them, I either:

1. Attempt to put a patch on the hole (which never stays on).
2. Attempt to sew up the hole (with tragic results).
3. Wear them only around the house, where no one can witness my failure.
4. Use them for dirty jobs like gardening or painting.
5. Throw them away while muttering, “You had a good run.”

Call me old-fashioned, but I cannot bring myself to pay good money for jeans that arrive pre-damaged. I don’t understand the appeal. I also don’t find knee holes particularly comfortable. Nothing like a drafty kneecap to remind you that fashion is pain.

Recently, a PA at a doctor’s office treated me while wearing a T-shirt and distressed jeans—because nothing says “Trust me with your health, I’m a medical professional” like ripped clothing. (Don’t judge me and write snarky comments. I’m an old fogey who still expects medical professionals to appear in a crisp white lab coat. So, sue me.)

Despite the popularity of this fashion statement, I won’t be wearing distressed jeans anytime soon. For that matter, I’ve never embraced skinny jeans either. They make me feel like my legs are being slowly cut off from circulation. I prefer my jeans broken in the old-fashioned way—by wearing them—without paying someone a small fortune to do the damage for me.

That said, to my credit, I haven’t crossed into full-on “mom jeans” territory yet.

But when my son opens his birthday present and pulls out a brand-new pair of pre-ripped jeans, I’ll smile proudly—because nothing says “I love you” quite like buying clothing that already looks like it survived a bear attack… and still costs more than mine ever did.