A.K.A. The ballad of “don’t you love it when you FINALLY find something doesn’t exacerbate your negative body image?”
As I approach my 39th birthday I’m stuck in this constant game of body pong where I am the ball, bouncing between weights and shapes and have no self control or real desire to change AND YET…I am always shocked when I look horrific in clothing.
You see I’m physically approaching 39 but my body, in my mind is still, at the very most, late 20’s (hears tumbleweed rolling around your brain whilst you try not to laugh).
And I think that, daily, even though when I stand infront of a mirror it looks as though 20 year old me, ate the 19 year old version of me, WHOLE!!
THIS *indicates to whole body* is a direct result of that very wierd, time travel cannibalism.
As the world of fashion dictates EVERYTHING is skinny fit and unless I want to shop at M&S I wont find anything that isn’t this way. Even though I could shop there, the 39 year old me (who thinks that the actual me is still in her 20’s) feels she is no way old enough to shop there.
38 year old me, in skinny fit, looks as though I’ve raided someone’s wardrobe who is at least 4 sizes smaller than me!
In my job I get through jeans quite quickly so can’t afford buying really expensive jeans, to possibly get a better cut, only to have them covered in slime and forever retain a very dubious stain which I have to keep explaining until I can afford a new pair and I work in retail, so that would be? *calculates rapidly* .. never!
I am therefore a slave to the reasonably priced outlets of the world.
Everytime I purchase a pair of what is, let’s be honest, a very plus size pair of jeans, the ONLY fit I can find is skinny or (for a massive variation) SUPER SKINNY *hears virtual crowd roar with excitement*. As if that wasn’t bad enough trying to pour myself into a plus size that is anything but plus they then also make it fashionably low on the waist. Ahhh yes of course that makes sense!!?!
For the duration of the life of said jeans all I do is HOIST, put out some stock, hoist, serve a customer, HOIST AGAIN…but are they ever sufficiently pulled up? NO… NEVER! No amount of hoisting of these vile cut leg coverings will EVER be enough. I hoisted the rubbish black tubes of torture sooo much the other week I ripped a hole in the waistband so my underwear could be seen! Now I know that some of you will be muttering “Why don’t you just get a belt fattie?” Well, it’s not really a solution, for a belt that rest on the hips sits under the problem area thus it only creates more resistance to hoist up! And I have to bend up, down and around in work as though I’m some kind of merchandise focused yoga instructor. So I don’t want a belt and buckle digging into me every 5 minutes. And the more you hoist a pair of new black jeans the more black dye you get on your hands and back and forth you go to wash your hands and the circle never ends.
UNTIL THIS VERY THURSDAY!
I walked into my local purveyor of poorly cut pantaloons to purchase my monthly disappointment, went to the lowest shelf, for the largest size, bend down, bend up HOIST ahh and the rip just gets bigger..
Pick up the size I always get in a high waist which only had the options SKINNY OR SUPER RIDICULOUSLY SKINNY FIT. I opt for the first cut. Which isn’t really a choice but I have learnt from popular music that ‘the first cut is the deepest’ and my thighs need deepness!
I leave the new pair for the following day and bimble around the rest of the day with holes in the jeans inbetween my thighs, waistband and all belt hooks broken from previously mentioned hoisting. Friday morning I get to work and change expecting the usual ‘Muriel from Muriels wedding trying to get into her trousers’ moment but NO! THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN. Not only do the jeans slide on fine BUT they aren’t stupidly tight on the ankles and the best part is I hoisted maybe once the entire day! This immediately lifted my mood from chunky monkey to SVELTE SALES GODDESS (haha kind of).
Nothing was sticking out or spilling over, no parents getting an unwanted flash of the top of my knickers, in summary I was fully contained within my garment! This has not happened for quite some time.
I must now go post haste to the shop again and purchase 12 pairs of these beloved bottoms because I fear they will be the unicorn of the jeans world. Beautiful and possibly imaginary.
To my new jeans, thank you so much for coming into my life and giving me a sense of feeling.. complete. Filling the holes and gaps in my existence with expansive material. And though the clothing dye on my hands may fade eventually, the dye you have left on my heart (and all of my upper thighs) will never wash off. Please stay with me always and remain as bold as the day I brought you home. I will never covet another pair of jeans as much (except the Levis that I bought in Florida in 1990 something). Please try to diffuse the friction caused by my thighs constantly arguing and remain firmly upright so I have no cause to hoist you and possibly cause a split.
I love you my twin dark tunnels of wonder.