The other day I was dreading buying a new pair of jeans. It really is a terrible thing – except they now have stretchy denim in almost everything – a fact I was naively unaware of.
But back to the dread.
When I was a bit younger, there were two brands of jeans that always fit – Silver and Guess. My girlfriend and I would go to this badass jeans store at a mall in Windsor, Ontario and try on jeans till our hearts content – I would always leave with a pair of Guess or Silver.
I weighed less that 100lbs until I hit the age of 30, trying on jeans was not a tough thing.
Now I am acutely aware that I am no longer under the age of 30 or less than 100lbs. Something I didn’t really think was a bad thing, until I walked into a mall store one day and the clerks looked at me like I was over 1000 showing a facial expression that said “really now lady – do you think there is anything in this store for you”??
So yeah, it has become very difficult to shop for jeans. Suddenly you are self conscious. I have no idea why – time certainly does not go in reverse – so I can’t fix my age. And while I am no longer itty bitty, I am not biggy wiggy either.
If I can still wear a bikini on the beach – I can certainly shop for jeans in a mall dammit!
So I win a $200 gift card to Guess. Cool, 200 bucks – that’s great! There is a Guess store at an area upscale mall, I’ll go there and get jeans.
Did I mention I won this card a year ago? I did not, well, I did.
And hubby and I did walk through the Guess store, about a year ago – to which I turned to him and said, oh not today – I’m not feeling like trying on clothes. But really, what I wasn’t feeling was being over 30 in the Guess store in an upscale mall that makes me question what shoes I’m wearing, let alone pick out jeans and ask the teen/twenty girl for a key to the dressing room. Just didn’t want “the look”.
Yesterday – I go. By myself. I pick out jeans, the girl encourages me to try a size larger (thanks – old and fat now). I pick out the jeans I think will fit me and grab the size larger, to appease the teen/twenty – who is being nice enough, while also telling me what I can’t pull off (which in her opinion was the black jeans with “the finish” – I’m ok with that, not really into “the finish”). She is also shocked that I don’t care if they are skinny jeans or boot cut. I don’t- I have both, I think I look ok in each style.
Head to the dressing room, dreading every step – thinking this will be a disaster. But it wasn’t. Everything fit. EVERYTHING. God bless stretchy denim. And do you know what else – the first pair of jeans I picked up, in the size I thought I wore (which I do) is the pair of jeans I bought – and I still have $130 to spare!
So I head to the counter, with my little jeans purchase and she needs to see my ID to use the prize card.
Did I mention this was an upscale stuffy mall that makes you question what you are wearing when you walk in the door – before you ever go into a store? So Teen/Twenty thought she was dealing with a local – but she was not – she was dealing with an Eastsider.
Suddenly I am the coolest person in the store. Alarm bells and confetti could have fallen from the ceiling.
Apparently she to is an Eastsider and went to the high school that is just about in our back yard on the street behind us. We live in a very diverse area and I love it here. I love our house, my neighbors, the neighborhood, the convenience of uncrowded streets (plus all the old Italian bakeries and meat markets).
It’s funny how people judge people without knowing anything about them – then they come across one factual tidbit of information and everything changes. I hope somehow, in some way I just made one more over thirty year old woman’s task of trying jeans at a mall store one step easier. Of course, the stars are going to need to align and she will have to get the same teen/twenty I did AND live on the Eastside.