Jennifer Lopez was photographed in jeans covered with dirt while shopping with her daughter Emme in Los Angeles, on October 30, 2024.
The pop star stepped out confidently in a relaxed, casual outfit recently, but fans were quick to express their disapproval of her jeans, questioning their style and age appropriateness.
Lopez popped out with her daughter Emme in Acne Studios’s Super Baggy Fit Jeans, which are mid-waist. The brand’s website describes these super wide-leg pants as having “fading and smudging throughout,” contributing to a trendy construction worker-chic aesthetic that is currently fashionable.
To balance the shabby aesthetic of her wide-leg pants, “The Mother” star paired them with refined pieces, including a ribbed & Other Stories Mock Neck Jumper and a large Bottega Veneta tote bag.
On her feet, she wore Classic Twin Seam New Heights Ugg boots, a modern take on the classic suede style, featuring distinctive seams and a curved sole. Jennifer Lopez and Emme ignored the paparazzi as they stepped into American Rag Cie to shop before Halloween.
Online users had mixed reactions about Lopez’s choice of jeans during this outing. One surprised commenter questioned, “Are her pants … Dirty? Or is that the style these days?” Another seemed puzzled by her choice at her age, remarking, “I really don’t get that st [sic] 55 she dresses like this.”
An online user suggested an upgrade, “She really needs new pants,” while someone humorously urged, “The pants ..please trow [sic] them in the trash please!!!!🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪.” Meanwhile, a disappointed fan asked, “JLO my love what’s with those jeans?😢”
Yet, her look still garnered admiration. Fans wrote simple, approving notes like, “Pretty.” Another admirer gushed, “Beautiful!❤️” An amazed fan also penned, “She doesn’t age 😍.”
Others praised her style overall, “Jlo look [sic] amazing in whatever she wore😍” and another user concurred, “She’s always cute.”
Lopez is often recognized for her timeless elegance in the public eye, some of which stir lively discussions among her fanbase. Her most recent appearance isn’t the first time she has been celebrated by some and critiqued by others for her unconventional denim choice.
In April 2024, she was spotted descending a set of brownstone steps, donning a similar pair of baggy jeans like the one she wore on her outing with Emme. These jeans also appeared distressed and discolored, an unusual departure from her typically polished looks.
She paired the jeans with an elegant, long navy coat, exuding an urban chic vibe, and complemented it with a cashmere turtleneck sweater. Shielding her eyes with large sunglasses, Lopez carried a standout turquoise Chanel bag, adding a splash of opulence to the street-savvy outfit.
Despite her impeccable style history, fans were divided over this latest look. Her enthusiasts lauded her appearance, “That’s how I like her, looking great,” a sentiment seconded by others who felt Lopez could do no wrong, fashion-wise.
A second comment added to the chorus of praise, “Incredibly beautiful and elegant!! Unique Jlo!!!” emphasizing the uniqueness that Lopez brings to her style choices. Another user simply diverged from the matter at hand to declare her love for the star with, “I love Jen.”
Conversely, some fans were less than impressed. A third commenter did not mince words, declaring, “Worst jeans I’ve ever seen on a woman. Another lamented, “The outfit is elegant except for those nasty jeans😒,” while another wrote, “And those jeans look filthy!”
In similar disapproval, another user called the “Love Don’t Cost a Thing” songstress “a mess,” citing the jeans as a significant detractor from the star’s usual elegance. Another blatantly declared, “She has no dress sense!”
Meanwhile, others rallied to Lopez’s defense, clarifying the intention behind the fashion choice. One user provided a counter-narrative, “They are not dirty that is the style of those pants,” suggesting a misinterpretation by the critics.
Criticism aside, Lopez’s hallmark is her adaptable fashion sense—seamlessly shifting from street-chic flair to couture elegance, all while preserving the distinctive personal touches that are unmistakably JLo.
Lopez has long navigated the ever-shifting tides of fashion with grace, as comfortable in the rugged casualness of jeans and Timberlands as she is in the high glamour of Valentino Haute Couture.
“I like baby hairs and big hoops and gold jewelry,” she confessed, revealing the personal flourishes that anchor her diverse fashion choices. These personal touches, regardless of trends, remain steadfastly woven into the fabric of her distinctive look.
After I restored the motorcycle my father had gifted me, he took it back — so I found a way to get my revenge
I caught them effortlessly, but I was confused.
“What’s this for?” I asked. They didn’t look like car keys, and I already had my mom’s old car anyway.
My dad nodded toward a dusty tarp in the corner of the garage. It had been there for as long as I could remember, covering up something that I was told not to touch.
When I pulled the tarp off, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was my dad’s old Harley, a ’73 Shovelhead. It was the stuff of my childhood dreams, the bike that had always seemed just out of reach.
All I had wanted to do when I was younger was steal my dad’s leather jacket and sit on the motorcycle. But he always shouted at me whenever I tried to touch it.
“If there’s one scratch on it, Seth,” he would say, “I’ll take all your spending money away.”
That was enough to keep me away from the dream bike.
“You’re giving me the Harley?” I asked, my voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.
My father shrugged it off like it was nothing.
“Yeah, why not, son?” he declared. “It hasn’t run in years, to be honest, so good luck with that. Consider it a late birthday gift, Seth.”
I could barely believe it.
I was finally going to ride that bike, and feel the engine roaring beneath me, the wind in my hair. It was going to be everything I had dreamt of and more. I was finally going to be like my dad.
I ran my hand over the cracked leather seat, taking in the gift.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
The moment those keys were in my hand, that motorcycle became my new obsession.
“Jeez, son,” the mechanic said when I took the Harley over in a friend’s old pickup truck. “There’s a lot to be done here. But I can do the big things for you, and you’ll be able to sort out the smaller things if you’re confident enough.”
I saved every penny from my barista role at the café. I was extra polite to all my customers, hoping for large tips, ready to go straight into the motorcycle restoration fund.
Soon, my nights, weekends, and any and all free time I had were spent outside with the motorcycle. I tore it down and put it back together, better than ever, restoring old parts. I watched countless YouTube tutorials and read every manual I could find.
“What are you doing now?” my roommate, Brett, asked when I was hunched over my laptop on the couch.
“I’m looking at forums online for tips about the motorcycle,” I said.
“That’s all you do these days, buddy,” he said, chuckling.
Fourteen months later, the day finally came. I polished the last piece of chrome, stood back, and admired my work. The Harley gleamed under the garage lights, looking like it had just rolled off the assembly line.
“Good job, Seth,” I muttered to myself.
I could hardly contain my excitement as I thought about showing it to my parents, especially my dad. I imagined the pride on his face, the way his eyes would light up when he saw what I’d done.
I hoped that he would finally be proud of something I had done. But nothing prepared me for what was to come next.
I rode it over to my parents’ house, the engine purring beneath my legs like a big cat. As I parked in the driveway, I felt a rush of nerves. I hadn’t felt this anxious since I was waiting for my acceptance letter for college.
“Mom? Dad?” I called, walking into the hallway.
“We’re in the kitchen,” my mom called.
I walked into the kitchen, and there they were. My dad was drinking a cup of tea, and Mom was busy putting together a lasagna.
“I’ve got something to show you!” I said. “It’s outside.”
They followed me outside, their eyes going wide when they saw the motorcycle.
“Oh my gosh, Seth,” my dad exclaimed. “Is that the Harley? My old Harley? She looks beautiful!”
“Yes,” I said, grinning. “I’ve spent the last year working on it. What do you think?”
Before they could answer, my dad moved closer to the motorcycle. His eyes narrowed as he took it in. He ran his hands along the chrome as though he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“You did all this?” he asked, his voice tight.
“I did!” I said, beaming proudly. “Every spare moment and extra cash went into this project. And now she’s perfect.”
For a second, I thought I saw pride flicker in his eyes, but then his expression changed. His face darkened, and I felt something change in me.
“You know, Seth,” he said slowly, “this bike is worth a hell of a lot more now. I think I was too generous when I gave it to you.”
I blinked, not understanding.
“What do you mean, Dad?”
My father cleared his throat, not meeting my eyes.
“I’m going to take it back,” he said, his tone final. “And I’ll give you $1,000 for your trouble.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, barely containing my anger.
He nodded.
“It’s only fair, Seth.”
I wanted to yell, to tell him how unfair he was being, how much time and money I’d poured into that bike. But I knew that arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere. My father was too stubborn.
“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you think is fair.”
He looked surprised that I didn’t fight him on it, but I wasn’t done with my revenge. If he wanted to play dirty, then fine. I could play that game too. I just needed to be smarter about it.
A few days later, I saw my father posting on social media about his “newly restored” motorcycle and that he was taking the Harley to an upcoming bike meet with his old biking buddies.
“Now it’s on,” I said to myself.
When the day of the meet arrived, I watched from a distance as my father rolled up on the Harley, looking every bit the proud owner of a beautiful bike. He revved the engine, drawing the attention of everyone in the parking lot.
But what he didn’t know was that I’d made a little modification of my own.
Under the seat, I’d installed a small switch—it was nothing fancy. But it was a precaution in case the Harley was ever stolen. The switch, when accessed, would cut off the fuel line with a quick flick of the remote, which was firmly planted in my hand.
I waited until he was right in the middle of the crowd, basking in the admiration, and then, from a distance, I pressed the button.
The Harley sputtered, the engine dying with a weak cough. Soon, my father’s smug grin disappeared as he tried to restart it, but the engine wouldn’t give.
The murmurs began, making their way through the crowd, and a few of his buddies laughed under their breath.
“Need a hand, Dad?” I asked when I made my way over to him.
He glared at me, but I could see the desperation in his eyes. He nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. I knelt down, pretending to fiddle with the bike for a moment before “fixing” the problem by turning off the switch.
The engine roared back to life, but by then, the damage was done.
The look of embarrassment on my dad’s face was worth every second of the work I had put into the Harley.
He handed me the keys, his jaw clenched tightly.
“It’s yours,” he said, walking away.
I smiled, knowing the Harley was mine, and so was my father’s respect, even if he couldn’t say it.
Leave a Reply