where do jeans go when they die?

sitting in the car yesterday, looking down at the hole beginning to form in my favorite pair of jeans, i couldn't help but feel a certain sense of looming depression. not again. i'm not ready for this again. i'm not ready to lose another pair of jeans to the bottom of the drawer... to the place where "jeans i might pull out someday when i need something to wear with holes in it" go. this place isn't reserved for jeans that can be taken to DI... this is for favorite jeans with ameritus status. i'm just not ready for this. because the maker of favorite jeans plays a cruel joke on the world each time this happens: DISCONTINUED. this word means the end of comfort for a time. the end of getting home from church, tearing off the fancy clothes and reverting to the lazy pleasure that only favorite jeans can provide. it means it is time once again to stand in dressing room after dressing room throwing pair of jeans after pair of jeans on to the heaping pile of misery that is looking for the perfect fit. it means coming to grips with the fact that what once fit well is now out of my league. i can't do this. it's just too soon.