Tuesday, January 08, 2013

In Which I Stage My Own Intervention

Jeans. I love them. I wear them all the time. Probably more than I should.

I’ve always been a jeans girl. And very specific about my taste in jeans. I vividly remember a pair of Guess jeans I had in elementary school with that perfect little white, red, and black upside down triangle on the back pocket and ankle zippers, y’all. I also had a pair of multicolor stripe jeans. But we won’t discuss those. My only defense is that it was the 80’s.

But other than a pair of colored skinnies, a couple pair of maternity jeans, and a pair of cheap get-me-thru-till-I-can-fit-into-my-regular-jeans-after-pregnancy jeans, I haven’t bought jeans since Caedmon was 2 1/2. That was 3 years ago.

Since that time, lots of stuff has changed. (My address, for one. Like, a zillion times. I’m trying to joke about that, and it’s still not funny. I digress.) Jeans have more stretchy in them. Different shapes. Pocket stitching. Bling. Contrast stitching. The differences are countless, really. And since the advent of Pinterest and the ability to expand our fashion horizons in so many more ways, buying jeans has gotten more difficult. Especially if you’ve read this blog post from an Alabama Blogger about Mom Jeans. (If you don’t know what Mom Jeans are, watch this.) But I laughed and moved on. And then, I read this post she wrote, basically telling us that Old Navy and Gap sell Gateway Mom Jeans.

It changed my life.

Actually, it freaked me out.

Because all my jeans? From Gap. That’s where I’ve been buying my jeans for years. (Granted, since the last pair I bought was in 2009 or so, the styles have changed since then. Tremendously.)

Y’all. I would like to say that I’m the exception she mentions there, but I realized denial is not just a river in Egypt and came to terms with the fact that I was, indeed, wearing gateway jeans. Gateway Mom Jeans.

It was time to put a stop to the gateway jeans. And no one could do it but me.

I’ve been dreading it. Because who wants to take two small kids shopping with them, much less jeans shopping, where you will have to analyze your rear in dressing room mirrors? Not me.  So we found a day that Husband could hang with the kids and I could go shopping by myself. Well, by myself and with some friends via text.

I started at Express. And I really wanted to like their jeans. Mostly because they consistently have good denim deals and send out coupons. Y’all know I’m cheap. But I didn’t like them on me. At all.

So I moved on to the Buckle. I knew what I was getting into when I went in, but it was not to be avoided. I approached the sales girl and told her I needed a jeans intervention; That I hadn’t bought jeans in 3 years, I had no idea what brand I wanted, what size I wore (because all the sizes have changed too!), and I would need help making sure they fit right. Poor thing. She had no idea what she was getting into.

She took me to a dressing room with 5 pair of jeans to start with. Yeah, I said “start”. I honestly don’t know how many pair of jeans I tried on, but they (she had to call for back-up) even ended up bringing me some from the girls’ section at one point because of my skinny legs.

I won’t lie, I felt a little like Lady Mary on Downton Abbey with Anna fussing over her clothes and everyone standing around admiring her outfit. Meanwhile, I was trying to take photos of each pair so I could objectively look at all the details. Which I’m sure would be frowned upon by Lady Grantham and receive an epic one-liner from the Dowager Countess. I finally ended up with a pair that we thought was just right, and I bought them before I could change my mind.

I knew the price was going to be steep. And honestly, I didn’t buy the most expensive pair in the store. I didn’t even buy the most expensive pair I tried on. But it was still more than I’ve ever paid for jeans. Which might not be saying much, seeing as the last pair I bought was from the clearance rack with a price tag of $12. True story.

Under normal circumstances, I’m a great decision-maker. But when it comes to buying clothes for myself (especially when they have a bigger price tag than my cheap little self likes), I have issues. Thus the reason for no jeans in three years.

After I left the store, I had a bit of buyer’s remorse. I really liked them, but I couldn’t believe how much I’d just paid for a single pair of jeans. So I texted a few friends and a couple of my sisters to make sure I wasn’t off my rocker. At least, not that time.

They all told me I’d done the right thing (though my sisters did make fun of my inability to take “proper” pictures of my rear in a dressing room mirror). And then I went to another store, tried on a pair of jeans that I liked and were on sale for $25, and about had a nervous breakdown.

So I asked Husband for his opinion. He told me to “get the expensive ones”.  (Price tags don’t make him twitch like they do me.) And then? Then I did something completely crazy. I bought the $25 jeans and kept the expensive ones.

Clearly, I had a moment of insanity. 

But I left the mall before I had a chance to change my mind. Because I knew that if I made it home, I was keeping them. I’m not about to drag my kids to the mall to return jeans. 

I got home and tried them on again. And a couple more times. Because I had to make sure they fit the same at home. And looked the same in my mirror. But then I finally cut the tags off. It was over. They were mine.

And? I don’t regret it. If anything, I wish I’d done it sooner. Because let’s face it, a good pair of jeans is a good, good thing.

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