I’m in a Band — Girl Jeans & Identity | Jamey Ice

Recently I got to reconnect with my old friend (& fellow former musician turned entrepreneur) John Price… and he reminded me of a pretty funny story from back when I was in high school.

John used to play at the Aardvark, a little club right by TCU. If you were anywhere near campus, you knew who he was. He was the guy. The local rock star. He played this Americana, Bruce Springsteen–style music that just oozed confidence and swagger.

Snakeskin boots. Big bell bottoms. Vintage pearl snaps. Sunglasses indoors. Heavy turquoise jewelry.

The TCU girls absolutely flooded his shows. They were always packed.

I saw him a few times and was instantly hooked. I remember thinking, This is the coolest human I’ve ever seen.

Somehow, I worked up the nerve to introduce myself after a show. We got to talking. I told him we were in a band. He was kind. Encouraging.

And then something wild happened.

He let us open for him.

Here he was—TCU’s resident rock star—and we were just high school kids. But he took us seriously.

We even asked him if we could take him to lunch sometime and pick his brain. He said yes. We went to lunch several times. He had us over to his house, played us music, and talked about songwriting. He became this informal mentor figure.

To me, John Price was the bee’s knees.

One day, I finally asked the question I’d been dying to ask.

“Where do you get those bell bottoms?”

At the time, men’s jeans were all baggy. There weren’t boutique options like there are now.

John smiled and said, “These are from the ’70s. But let me tell you a secret.”

He leaned in.

“If you can’t find vintage ones, go to the Gap. Go to the women’s section. They make flares called Long and Lean. Buy those.”

James (the original GRO singer) and I just stared at him.

“…How?”

He laughed. “You just go in there.”

“But what if they ask what we’re doing?”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Just say, I’m in a band.”

That was it.

So the very next day, James and I went to Hulen Mall. Walked straight into the Gap. Straight into the women’s section.

Immediately, a sales associate came over. “Uh… can I help you?”

Without hesitation, I said, “Yeah, no big deal. We’re in a band.”

And like magic… it worked.

Other women started helping us, laughing, giving opinions, and telling us which ones looked best. We tried them on. Bought them.

We wore big, dramatic women’s bell bottoms to school.

The girls thought it was hilarious. The guys thought we were kind of weird.

But we were popular. And confident. And it didn’t matter.

Because we believed something about ourselves.

We believed we were musicians. Rock stars.

And that belief gave us permission to do things that would’ve felt terrifying otherwise.

Reflecting on that story has got me thinking about how powerful identity is.

When you believe something is true about who you are, it changes how you move through the world.

Confidence follows identity. Risk follows confidence. Action follows belief.

We didn’t wear bell bottoms because we were confident.

We were confident because we believed we were in a band.

That same dynamic applies to everything in life.

If you believe you’re the kind of person who prays—you pray. If you believe you’re the kind of person who trains—you train. If you believe you’re the kind of person who creates—you create.

Identity isn’t the reward at the end of discipline.

It’s the starting line.

Sometimes all it takes is borrowing a little belief and saying out loud.

“I’m in a band.”