The only thing more frustrating than swimsuit shopping…blue jean shopping. Black stretchy pants are not cutting it right now. Well, they are cutting in some ways–cutting into my waist, cutting off my circulation, cutting into my will to wear pants at all. Even my wide-waist band leggings are causing me gastroenterological stress. They should be flattering, but no, I’m looking lumpier than Grimace wrapped in rubber bands. So, off to Nordstrom, Land of Sartorial Reveries, I go!
Bless that sweet young sales girl (Kayla–you’re awesome) for telling me that something was too big. I had to repress the guttural snort that was bare knuckle fist fighting its way to my nose. She picked out beautiful, skinny, slim cut, mid rise jeans in lovely washes, from midnight blue to pale gray. They were all in the contemporary section. Four pair in, I discover that the crotchular rise of these jeans is either woefully short, resulting in muffin mushroom cloud, or bizarrely stretchy, causing fierce Bactrian camel toe. And that her kind assessment of my sizing needs was WAY, WAY, WAY too generous. Ten pair in, this is now a suicide mission. None of these damn things, no matter how stretchy, are going to succeed. She keeps asking me to let her see how they fit…I’m sure she regrets that now. Especially since the pair she wanted to see couldn’t be buttoned or zipped. Even the HIGH rise don’t give me enough room in the clutch. They just give me really whack, super long camel toe. I’ll leave you to digest and enjoy that superb visual.
Never giving up, she brings me another assortment of jeans, slightly more forgiving than 7, AG, Joe and Citizens of Humanity. The sizes are better (I no longer look like denim sausage), but the clutch is still a problem. Finally, I try on the NYDJ (Not Your Daughter’s Jeans). OH HELL YES! VICTORY! The waist is actually near my waistline; the inseam is flattering; the legs are perfect; the wash is lovely. And the fit…heaven! I don’t gasp like a dying fish on dry land. I can sit! I can bend in half! Woohoo! Whale tail and muffin top BANISHED! Added bonus…they don’t look like Mom Jeans. There are no crazy 80’s pleats. (I realize these are coming back into vogue for people who enjoy ironic fashion. We all know I’m not a hipster or Chloe Sevigny though, so I won’t be rocking them EVER.) I’m proud to own some jeans that look fantastic AND will eliminate both crack problems and spare tire issues. As my sweetest cousins, Kelly and Meredith, love to say: keepin’ it classy, ladies!