One-way ticket to Mom Jeansville.

I'm kinda finicky about my clothes.

I find a pair of pants I really, really like, and then I go buy another pair just like the first pair (or maybe, if I'm feeling adventurous, in another shade), in case one gets ruined in the washing machine, or I want to wear the same kind of pants a few days in a row.

I don't rewear clothes before I wash them.

I fall into slumps with my clothes. I get one "look," and it's pretty much the only look I'll have that week. Or two. Or month. You get the point. I just realized last week that I have a "Monday" outfit and a "Friday" outfit. I realized I have a routine, and that routine means I must do laundry on Saturdays, with one load on Thursday night if I decide not to rewear a pair of pants.

It's a science. And it's pathetic. I am old. I am old before my time.

I am supposed to be on top of my fashion game. It's only a matter of time before the waistline of my pants creeps up and I have the "mom jeans" look: high waist, straight through the thighs, tapered at the ankles. I'm heading toward mom jeans faster than I should. And it scares me. I don't ever want to end up in Mom Jeansville.

Why? Because once you lose your sense of fashion, that means you've crossed the line of no return. It means you're no longer hip. I'm scared of losing my cool factor. How am I supposed to hang out with my friends back home if what I've become is a 9-to-6 worker with a 401(k)? What will happen to my well-deserved "street cred"? ("I'll tell you where it'll go, Erin. It'll go out the window if you ever use the term 'street cred' again.")

You may think it's no big deal. "Just don't buy mom jeans."

It's not that easy. Mom jeans aren't a fashion choice. They're a lifestyle. It starts with "I have a Monday outfit and a Friday outfit," and it ends at a minivan.

I'm just not going to be that grown up.

So, for the record, you will not see me in my Friday outfit this week. I'm shaking it up. And if you notice I'm falling into a pattern, would someone please intervene?