I am mentally gearing up for my spinning session today.
I just had lunch. I hope I won’t be seeing it again later. (!)
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By the way, I’m doing the draw for the Sakura Bloom slings tomorrow (Sunday). Canadian readers, you can enter here.
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The other day I found myself wandering aimlessly around Bayshore looking for a new pair of jeans.
I was having my photo taken the next afternoon, and although my pants wouldn’t be a prominent feature of this shoot they would still be there, in the photo, and I refused to be seen (in print no less – in a magazine which might end up on thousands of coffee tables across the city) wearing any of the jeans I have currently in rotation.
May I take a moment to describe the current state of my denim? I have exactly three pairs.
Pair #1 – Silver brand faded jeans, worn to shreds at the bottom back hem, bought secondhand at least five years ago, possibly more. Ack.
Pair #2 – Tommy Hilfiger, bought new, four or five years ago, size 31 and way too loose. I can’t wear them without a belt, and when I do they’re oddly puckered at the top.
Pair #3 – bought about a year ago. They’re a darker wash and are ill-fitting. A bum purchase. (No pun intended.)
And so this is how I was able to justify this purchase despite the ongoing Shopping Embargo (yes, I’m still doing it!).
I found myself at the Gap. The store was almost totally dead, so one of the salesgirls was free to help me exclusively (which was great). I grabbed a few different pairs and grudgingly made my way to the fitting room.
I have a terrible time buying jeans. First of all, I hate non-standardized sizing. I never know what size to start with. Second, I’m tall (5′ 10″) but most of my height doesn’t seem to be in the leg, it’s my midsection. My midsection is a story in itself. After having two XL babies, weight loss, weight gain (I topped out at 200lbs with Emma) and weight loss, there are still scarred and jiggly bits that refuse to go away no matter how much All-Bran I consume or how many crunches I do. (Not that I’ve given up trying.)
And then THERE IS MUFFIN TOP.
So with that, I hoped to find a pair of jeans that would make me feel like a young hawt momma again, something I could dress up and dress down, something would create that magical illusion of minimizing the jigglies as well as The Pear That Is My Body. It’s not too much to ask of a pair of jeans, is it? Ha!
The salesgirl was really nice, and very patient. She brought me pair after pair after pair of pants.
I think we were both pretty close to giving up when she brought me a pair of jeans deemed “CURVY” in a size 29. I POURED myself into them. In fact, I had to do a few little jumps just to get wedge myself into them.
They were too tight. I voiced my concern about the strangle-hold they had on the lower half of my body.
Don’t worry, she said, they’ll stretch.
She told me that these jeans contained a small percentage of lycra and that they’ll stretch almost a whole size.
I wavered for a long time. The 29s were uncomfortable. The practical side of me wanted to buy the next size up. Should I trust the salesgirl? Or was she just gunning to make a commission on a night when no one was shopping?
I decided to trust her and I went with the smaller size. I washed and dried them as soon as I got home. And you know what, she was right. They’ve stretched so much that they’re like the size 30s I tried on in the store. I’ve washed and dried them one more time since then, and they shrunk and stretched out again.
They’re a perfect fit and I love them. I might never take them off.
You might think that this story has a happy ending, but there is one problem. They pants are low rise, so when I crouch down I get a wicked case of plumber-butt. I could tolerate this a little better if I didn’t happen have family members who screech “CRACK ALERT!!!” and stick their hands down the back of my pants every time I bend over.
Guess what? I taught them that. *sigh*
But that is besides the point.
Thank you GAP salesgirl, for being so helpful and making me feel good about my jiggly parts again.
