Sometimes the only thing I have interest in wearing is sweat pants. And by sometimes, I mean all the time. But, as Jerry Seinfeld once said, wearing sweat pants in public is basically like saying that you’ve given up. So this weekend in Washington D.C. for the Cherry Blossom festival, even though it was borderline painful, I some how managed to forgo sweatpants and put on jeans. Luckily I recently acquired a pair of perfectly distressed, made-for-the-weekend, almost-as-good-as-sweatpants jeans from a new denim designer, Level 99. The jeans look good with my old Jack Purcell’s, which at this point might be a little too old, are less than $100, and are long enough for my giraffe-like legs. I have to admit though, I got them a tad muddy frolicking among the pink petals. Oh, and I of course had to make a short detour at the Capital Hill Flea Market to buy some lovely vintage napkins, doilies, and daffodils.