Tuesday, October 19, 2010

30 pairs. No. Joke.

I had a mini meltdown this weekend. I went out, supposedly for a very short shopping trip. I was picking up spices and little kitchen things we were out of, was going to check out a couple of shoe stores and swing by a crafts store to get me some candy melts (cake truffles for the bake sale, Helloooo!)

And then I ran into these.

I have issues with jeans. The issues are that I can't find any (since the Silvers I bought in high school that yay! now fit again) that I love. I have jeans. They're fine. They sag or bunch or are just a bit too short. But they're fine. Whatever.

So I saw jeans. And I wanted to find THE jeans that fit. THE jeans that I loved. The jeans that I would wear until they fell into bits around my ankles. I don't envy my company on that day! Or me. I hope I have on good underwear. Anyway. I proceeded to try on jeans upon jeans upon jeans.

Too short. Too tight. Top too long. Bottom too short. Too loose. Do not fit butt. The list goes on. I estimate my jeans marathon to have topped out at 30 or 40 pairs. And I was not pleased with any. ANY! I know I have a thicker waist and longer legs, but still. I want jeans where the crotch doesn't hang down to my knees and the waistband ends up above my hip line, while not looking like I'm 80. I want them to stay, and as they stretch out through the day from me sitting on my rear I do NOT want to look like I have the flat butt that I do. I promise, if I find these miracle jeans, I will buy you year after year after year. You will complete my wardrobe. And I will love you and call you jeans.

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