Would you like a side of Drama with those jeans?

If you are anything like me, even though you may have 5 or 6 pairs of jeans in the closet, you really only have one pair of jeans. The jeans that actually fit right. They don’t pinch, squeeze, or gap. They’re the perfect length, they aren’t cut too low, they feel fine every time you wear them, and you are comfortable in those jeans. I know it takes a while to get them that way. They probably weren’t perfect the first time you wore them, but they were close. And after several wearings, they fit just right.

So, while I don’t wear the jeans every single day, now that it’s colder and the wearing of capri pants is not practical, I wear those jeans about 4 times a week. Is that wrong? Should I be branching out more and wearing other types of pants?

However happy I am in my relationship with my jeans, there comes a time in every pair of jeans’ life when the “Go-to” jeans become the “up and went” jeans. They eventually wear out. -sigh- In my case, I developed some bare places where bare places shouldn’t be. I had to admit that the jeans were just too worn out to wear anymore.

Then I was faced with a dilemma. What to wear? And do I go out and shop for another pair? Ugh. Not jeans shopping. While not quite as ridiculous and painful as swimsuit shopping, jeans shopping can also be embarrassing, time consuming, and pricey. And even then, a pair of jeans may look and feel ok in the store’s dressing room, but when you get them home and introduce them to your other clothes, they just don’t behave. They gape in areas where they should hug, or they’re not quite as long as you thought they were, or they’re just too darn tight. It’s like you’re adopting a pet. The jeans must act all nice and obedient while in the store to convince you to take them home and away from that dark and lonely place that is the store, but once they get out, all bets are off. Plus, who has the TIME or the MONEY right now?

I admit I’m totally not a designer jeans girl. I’ve never spent over $50 for a pair of jeans, and I’d to keep it that way. I don’t get how they can charge hundreds of dollars for a pair of jeans. I mean, maybe I would get that super great fitting pair if I was willing to fork out half of my mortgage payment for a pair of jeans, but that’s not gonna happen. I’m going to buy them on sale, or with a coupon code, probably from Coldwater creek or my favorite store, Kohl’s. Don’t look down your nose at me, but that’s how it is. Maybe if I had a great body so that the jeans would actually look hot, but really, even with a great pair of jeans, I’m still going to be chubby.

And what’s up with all these different “rises”? By “low rise” they mean that these jeans will give you a plumber’s crack even before you bend over. Mid rise should be just about right, and high rise would be Mom jeans, I would guess. I can’t figure it out. I put on a pair of mid or high rise jeans and I still feel like I’m going to be pulling on the jeans all day to make sure they stay up.

Jeansless, I headed to the closet to see what else I could wear. I pulled out a few pairs of jeans to try. Let’s see, there’s the pair that fits but is obviously too short, and every time I sit down I’m painfully aware that everyone can tell if I shaved my legs or not. Denied. There’s the pair that fits pretty well, but it’s got a flower pattern on it that was started out gold, but now looks as if I was standing by the side of the road when a big truck drove by and splattered me with mud (kind of like in the movie “How to lose a guy in 10 days” with hunky Matthew McConaughey). Denied (I’m feeling very Suze Orman here). There’s the pair that has flower applique down the leg. Is applique in? Out? I don’t know, but when I wear those jeans I feel a little self conscious, like “Hey, look at me! I’m wearing my fancy jeans!” And I just don’t want to draw any undo attention to myself today. Denied. There’s the WAY cute pair that will look FABULOUS of me when I lose 10 or more pounds, but at today’s weight, they are most likely unzipable. Denied. There’s the other cute pair that are long enough and fabulous if I lose just 5 pounds, and I could wear them today if I weren’t planning on sitting down. They do “stretch”, right? But today, right after Thanksgiving, is not the time to try to pull that one off. Denied. There’s the pair of Khakis that fits fine and is long enough, but they are actually too long, and I feel kind of like puddle pants when I wear them. They need to be hemmed. Not feeling like hemming or wearing heels today, so they are denied. I found a pair of black pants that looked like a possibility. I put them on, and realized that while they did indeed fit, they were tapered leg, making me look OH SO HIPPY. How old ARE these things? I wonder to myself. I don’t buy tapered leg anything anymore. So Denied they go straight in the “donate” box.

What’s a gal to do?

Once again, I’m reminded why it would be so much easier to be a guy. Guys don’t have issues with their jeans. In fact, half of the time, they don’t even try them on. They just pick their waist size, and the length they want–Boom. Done. My husband doesn’t even buy his own jeans. Never. He hates shopping. He just asks me to get him a couple of pairs of jeans now and then. He likes the $13 jeans from Costco. Seriously. I tried to fancy him up last month, and bought him some Calvin Klein jeans. Still from Costco, but just a little nicer jean. He FINALLY tried them on, and said he doesn’t like them, and would I please just get the regular kind. Oh, well, if you want to keep on wearing the budget jeans from Costco, I guess I shouldn’t complain.

Way in the back of the closet I found a pair of jeans I didn’t remember. Hmmm. Whatever. I’ll try them on, I thought. I put them on, and they fit pretty well. They seem to be long enough, but not TOO long. Not too loose. Tight enough, but not TOO tight (Oh, who am I kidding? It’s just after Thanksgiving, of course they’re too tight, but not unbearably tight.) I can sit down in them. I think these might just work. I looked at the tag again, and they are Old Navy “curvy” jeans. I don’t know when the last time I was actually in an Old Navy store, and I don’t remember buying them. And what’s with the “curvy”? Is that a nice way to say fat? At this point, I just don’t care. I pull on the jeans. They are a little bit low in the back for my taste, but with a long shade shirt, I’ll be fine.

I wore the jeans. All day. While not as comfy as my last pair, I may have found a suitable substitute for the time being. And if some kind soul wants to volunteer to find me the perfect pair of jeans, I wouldn’t turn them away.