Skinny jeans. Oy.
My entire shopping trip yesterday centered around these fashion monsters.
Let’s start at the beginning. I am not a skinny minnie. I have a big butt, big boobs, and enough jiggle to give jello a run for its copyrighted money. Does this bother me? Usually not. I am built like a woman. I don’t say that in a “real-women have curves!” kind of way- I say it because it’s true. I am soft and warm, feminine but powerful with strong legs and pretty, high-arched feet that look KILLER in heels. I’m well-proportioned and carry myself well. And usually, I love adorning my pretty body in nice clothes, but I HATE pants shopping.
HATE. IT.
The fashion now is the above pictured twig-leg look, and I have never, even at my skinniest, had twig legs. So what to do? I tried on skinny jeans in my size at 5 different stores to no avail- some couldn’t even be availed upon to pass my knees. Finally, out of desperation and frustration, I brought a pair of skinny jeans into the fitting room in TWO WHOLE SIZES larger than I normally wear. I tried them on and they fit.
Big deal, right? Well it is a big deal- no woman likes to find that she suddenly grown two sizes in a week or so. Numbers are a big sticking point for many of us, limiting us, and causing some women to squeeze into a size they just don’t wear anymore.
Now I am a logical girl. I can work through a rare, but almost tearful frustration with my body. So I sat in the dressing room and argued with myself. Wearing clothes that I had always deemed too big for me? Upsetting. Wearing clothes that I call my size but that cause me to bulge in unattractive ways? Embarrassing. I decided I’d rather have clothes that fit and try to ignore the numbers that squeeze myself into pants like vacuum-packing food.
I guess we all have this argument with ourselves now and again. I wonder how you have resolved it for yourself?
