So, Julia Roberts is one of the best paid actresses in the entire world, right?
Then why the hell is she wearing jeans that she: bought at the Gap in 1997; bummed around town in for six years; used as a dust rag for six months; rescued from the rag bag in 2004; wore when she moved to New Mexico; wore when she created her compost pile in New Mexico; forced Danny Moder to wear around the house while she was pregnant, so she could be with them at all times; wore when she was bumming around the house losing the baby weight and thinking pretentious, irritating thoughts about Phinnnnnneauaeausususs and Hazel; wore when she drove her moving van to New York; and wore, apparently, to every performance of whatever play she's in, ever.
Look, I get the appeal of the Grubby Jeans. Everyone has a pair. I have a pair. They're about nine sizes too big, have a giant hole in the crotch, and boast a pen and ink drawing of a flower on the right knee. I wear them only in the privacy of my own home, usually when I'm moving furniture or watching The Notebook and eating a packet of Mallomars flavored only with the salt of my tears (note: this has never actually happened). But because I was raised IN A SOCIETY and not BY WOLVES I would never EXPOSE people to the HORROR of the grubby jeans. For sweet pete's sake, Julia. Buy a pair of jeans manufactured in this millenium.
