On Buying Jeans

Apparently the new criteria for buying jeans is: “Can you sit in them?”

I discovered that when I went on a mission to buy a pair of jeans that were “in.”  This by definition means that they aren’t baggy, have very skinny legs, have no give in the fabric.  Aren’t, in other words, comfy.

The adorable sales-person, (underage in my opinion but child labor’s a whole different subject), clearly had concerns about the jeans I was wearing.  My favorite ones, to be precise.

To say that I was shamed into trying on things that I shouldn’t have might suggest that I was persuaded by her youth, her chic-ness, and by the look on her face as she gave me the once-over.  Indeed, I felt pitiful and desperate.  I was, in other words, a sales-person’s dream.

She put me in a dressing room with more mirrors than I needed, then abandoned me so I was forced to walk out into the world…or at least into the store…in jeans that even I knew were wrong.   But by then I was starved for her opinion and, especially, her approval.  She kept saying they were still too baggy. Clearly, no better than what I had on when I walked in.

Now, at this point in my life, I know myself well enough that if I don’t already have something quite like it in my closet, I shouldn’t buy it.  I won’t wear it. But this shopping trip was intended to be a new experience.  To get with it.  To embrace change.

So, we tried and we tried some more.  We pulled and we zipped.  We assessed and we evaluated.  She had to be so tired of me.  I was tired of me, too.

Finally, we found a pair that we agreed had some “with-it-ness.”   That’s when she asked the all-important  “Can you sit in them?” question.  So I sat in them.

And I bought them.

What I neglected to tell her, because I didn’t want to upset her, was that I couldn’t breathe in them.

Apparently, that’s not a criteria.

I should have known.

jeans image courtesy of polyvore.com