Tight Jeans

Well, of course that's not me in the photo. For one, I'm not blonde. And for another, I would NEVER stand at a balcony without my shirt on.

The reason I included this photo is that I must have been suffering from a bout of temporary madness, thinking I looked like this woman when I bought THAT pair of jeans two days ago. I'd already tried on several pairs in other shops, and I guess when I walked into ESPRIT, I must have been just a tad shop weary. Grabbing two pairs of the same jeans in sizes 10 and 12, I walked into the dressing room brimming with hope that one of those pairs would be fabulous.

These were button fly jobs. Three buttons - no zip. I tried on the size 10... too tight, and too low. I tried bending over and it felt like my bum was going to fall out of them. But that feeling of tightness, of working hard to do up a pair of jeans took me back a very long time. All the way back to the days of wearing such tight jeans that I'd have to insert a coat hanger hook into the zip, lay on the bed and pull!!!! Feeling these tight jeans cut into me reminded me what it felt like to be wearing jeans as a young person. And it also made me think about how long I've been choosing 'comfortable' clothes over 'hot' clothes.

Don't get me wrong, comfortable clothes are great. They feel great, at least, but maybe they put us in the granny box just a tad. Which brings me to the 'hot' bit. I was never into looking 'hot'. Still am not. But there's something about being over 40 that makes you want to hold on to any shred of youth you have left. Now that I'm 44 I kind of regret having passed up the chance to be hot when I was young enough to do it without looking ridiculous.

Anyway, I'm digressing. Okay, the size 10 were too tight, so I moved on to the size 12. Too loose. Even I could see that.

The sales girl thought the 10's were fabulous, and she was so definite about the 12's being too baggy, that I couldn't bring myself to buy them. I put on the 10's again. Then the 12's, just to make sure. Then I got dressed in my old clothes, went back out to the pile of jeans at the front of the shop and picked out another size 10, just in case that 10 was just a teeny bit bigger.

Back in the dressing room. On with the new 10. Tight. On with the old 10. Tight. Old one, new one, old one, new one... so many times that in the end, I couldn't remember which pair was the original 10 and which was the new 10.

End of story? I bought them. I can't believe it, but I bought them. They look fantastic. They're the true skinny jeans, and I have to say I look fabulous in them. Pity every time I sit down they cut into me, and every time I stand up, I have to pull them up a little where they slid down my hips, and every time I bend down I think I'm going to be arrested for indecent exposure.

Ah, what a woman will do to look good...