Seperis (seperis) wrote,

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denim is my friend

Did I tell anyone about my last adventure in shopping for jeans?

About twoish months ago, I decided that it was time for a change. Now, I know we've talked about me, body issues, and jeans before. I will just say again--I do not care what television tells you about height, long legs, and the awesome, it is a lie. If your legs are more than half your height you look weird. And you will never, ever find a pair of jeans that are long enough, even when you are buying cropped. It is never, ever less than a vale of tears.

Here is basically what I look for in the perfect pair of jeans.

1.) Fits.
2.) Can fall asleep in when too lazy to make an epic journey to the dryer for pajamas (happens? A lot.)

I'm a simple girl. Who is tall.

After clutching the last of my jeans and realizing that no, they were not going to survive much longer, I girded my loins, picked up my credit card (such a bad idea), and went to Dillards.

Now, here's a fact that's probably self-evident to any woman. It is never a good idea to go shopping knowing what you want. That is pretty much a guarantee it will a.) not be there b.) be there but be the utterly wrong, wrong, wrong style c.) not fit or d.) but will fit if you i.gained five pounds or ii. lost five pounds. Because as we all know, for some reason, the fashion industry really, really believes if they keep telling us we are size 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, our bodies will suddenly realize this and not keep doing stupid shit like our waist is happy at ten but thighs at eight and hips at eighteen. So to speak.

And if you are above five eight, you are always too tall for everything in the store. What the hell?

After two horrifying hours, I clutched two horrible pairs that I knew I would not buy, but by God, I had to try. A middle aged, very short saleswoman glanced up from doing something arcane and magical with the hanger to glance at me.

Now, fact two. The laws of physics were broken that day, because if there is a single great rule of shopping, it is that if you need a salesperson, they will not be there, but if you want them to leave you alone, there will be four hovering over your ass and making sure you aren't fingerprinting the merchandise.

So imagine my shock when she asked, "You looking for jeans?"

And I said yes.

Forty five seconds later, I was in a dressing room with five pair of jeans that fit. Five! Five! While the saleswoman asked my mother "So does price matter to her?"

So here are the two things we have to be grateful for after that terrifying moment:

1.) The words "True Religion" never appeared anywhere near me or wow, would I be set back in credit card payments. Big time. Because I was way too excited to care about that "money" thing. Which you know, probably would have been bad. But I had jeans that fit and frankly, when one is in a jeans-daze, one cannot do simple math. Or remember say, oh, food money.

2.) Well, see one.

However, this weekend, I do another trek into the dark wilds of the mall in search of--yes, jeans. And this time, I'm kinda scared. She knows me. And I know she can find me my grail.

--$350 jeans? Really? Really?
Tags: jenn's life
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