I am apparently a freak. Wait, didn't I start a recent post, "I am a moron"? Note to self: Be nicer to self. Look in the mirror each morning and repeat the phrase, "I am beautiful and smart and I can do anything". It's hard to feel beautiful, though, when you can't buy clothing that fits. This is a struggle I have had all my life, or at least since I started caring if my clothes fit. I try, I really do. I have watched many, many episodes of Stacy & Clinton on What Not to Wear. I know the rules - No pleated pants. No mini-skirts over age 35. Items don't have to match, but they do have to "go". I want to look modern, hip, and stylish, but I'm just happy if my boring clothes are clean at this point.
I picture myself strutting around confidently with my cashmere black turtleneck sweater hugging my curves in all the right places, my oh so chic denim skirt that makes my ass look HOT, and my kickass black leather knee high boots. The ensemble screams, "Look at me! Damn, I look good, and I know it"! Instead my black cotton turtleneck sweater is 2 inches too short in my monkey arms after only two washings, and my denim skirt that only makes my ass look so-so is still hanging in my closet waiting to be worn, because I CANNOT buy boots with my freakish size 11 Narrow feet. That's right, I said 11 Narrow. Luckily you aren't here, because I just know you'd be staring at my feet right now. It is bad enough that all shoes everywhere only go up to size 10. I can always order shoes in 11, but not in narrow width. Apparently if your feet are that long, they should also be FAT. Sorry, I missed that memo. I finally, after scouring the universe, found a store that could order my only boot option in a size 11 Narrow, and they came in, and we went to the mall yesterday, and they actually fit! My feet, that is. They were way too big in my calves. Jim said "You either need fatter feet, or fatter calves". Yes, Jim, fatter calves would just about make life - perfect.
Every year around this time I do the switch. I put away my summer clothes and get out the winter stuff. This year, I decided to go through all my clothes and get rid of the stuff that either doesn't fit, is out of style, or I just haven't worn for years for whatever reason. This morning I tried on every pair of jeans I could find. I discovered to my shock and dismay I have 17 pairs of jeans! Seventeen! That is ridiculous, people! These are 17 jeans that I tried on and said "These fit". After my initial shock, I thought about it, and I know why I have so many jeans. It is a never ending quest. The quest for the "perfect pair of jeans". The ones that fit like a glove, that are so comfortable that you would even sleep in them if you could. The problem is, and ladies please come closer as I am about to tell you a secret that will truly rock your world....THEY DON'T EXIST!!! Now you know.
The problem is, if you are anything like me, and you have a strong desire to be hip and not look like a grandma, you have tried on the jeans that are now in fashion. Low rise. The term also applies to your self esteem when you try these on, do the sit-down test, and your belly flabs out over the top of the jeans. Lovely. Then there is the inescapable fact that you WILL be exposing your butt crack to innocent passersby each and every time you sit down. You will feel a cool breeze between your cheeks, and you will give yourself a wedgie trying to pull your underwear up enough to cover your butt crack. You will wear these jeans for awhile, and make the statement "There is no way people can wear these and be comfortable"! Then you will put on a pair of your old jeans, the ones that go up past your belly button. You will look in the mirror and see an old, out of fashion, woman, who strangely resembles your mother, and you will put the low rise jeans back on. You will sigh, turn on another episode of What Not To Wear, and mutter, "I am beautiful and smart and I can do anything".