It's been a month since my last confession, and many of you are experiencing some kind of strange withdrawal. I understand, and I'm here to help.
I have this pair of the softest, faded, most comfortable and perfectly fitting jeans on the planet. Don't be jealous, it's a once-in-a-lifetime situation, as anyone who has ever shopped for a pair of perfect jeans will attest. I bought them on a whim at a store I would never have thought would carry "The Perfect Jean" but that was what made them even more perfect. PLUS... they were on sale, so I got them for a song.
Alas, this was over three years ago, and I am now wearing parts of them out. Crucial parts that need to be covered. But I love them. They are my friend. I wish never to be parted from them from this day forth... but the thinning material, and fraying places are telling me that we're soon ending our relationship. I lovingly hand wash them inside out and air dry them. In fact, side confessional, they haven't been washed in quite some time. I even hand sewed the top stitching on the front pocket that had come loose. With every stitch, I sent a little bit of love to my jeans. I know you understand.
But... I decided it was time to embark on a search for a new pair. (Cue the horror movie music...)
Nothing can strike fear in my heart, like attempting to buy a new pair of jeans. There was a time when I could walk into Gap, grab a certain size off the shelf, take it home and carelessly throw it on without ever consulting a mirror. That was, until some phychotic designer decided to rework all their pants and create new sizing. It left me scarred and broken. I can't even walk by Gap without getting shaky and pale now. Of course, there was also a time when my stomach was perfectly flat and had no stretch marks. Hence the dire need for perfect denim.
I've never been a fan of the Calvin Klein Jean. They always made my butt look icky. Of course if you're going to take that apart and dissect it... never mind, let's not go down that road. Needless to say, the need for "good butt pocket placement" is critical. You take a pair of jeans with great color, perfect length, good front, but bad butt pockets, the jeans are instantly out. Honestly, does anyone shop for jeans with any other part in mind? Let's just be real here. We all turn around and think, "Does this make my butt look big?" And nobody wants that!
So back to the Calvins... I was at Costco, feeding my children a lunch of free samples, (What? like you've never done it.) stocking up on yoohoo and hummus, when I saw the jeans table. I ran my hand lovingly over the piles of crisply folded jeans, not yet scattered all over the place by frantic Sunday Costco shoppers. There, right in front of me, was a pile of Calvins. I liked the look of the butt pockets, but looks can be deceiving. I unfolded a pair, which happened to be my size, but was a little wary of the tag which read, "Lean Boot Cut." The word "lean" always makes me tremble a little. I doubt any body part I own, could be described as "lean." Well, perhaps my toes. I have very lean toes. They're like zero percent body fat, those toes.
I took a chance and grabbed them. They were a great price, and you just never know. Of course you can't try them on and bend in every direction in front of a three-way mirror at Costco, so you have to take your chances. It's like playing denim roulette.
Once I got home, I tried them on and they appeared to be rather cute. But before I could get excited, I had to know the harsh truth about the butt pockets. No one was around to ask, unless you count a six year old who wears brown and pink striped shirts under an Easter dress and thinks it's beautiful. You just can't trust that.
So I did the next best thing. I confess that I set up my camera, and I put on the self timer. Then I stood perfectly still and took a photo of my own butt.
And you know what? I'm keeping those jeans. And I'm taking my camera with me next time I go to the Gap.