I've been buying my jeans from the Gap lately. I love them. They make a pair of jeans called "curvy" that fit people with a J-Lo ass and a small waist. Every once in a while I get the idea to try something new though. About two years ago I purchased a pair of jeans from Tilly's. If you aren't familiar with it, it's one of those stores that caters to 16 year old teeny boppers, but also has a super fantastic flip flop section. I bought the pants and wore them exactly one time before I got too fat to fit into them.
Recently I decided to try them on again and I was sad because they didn't fit. I pulled them up and then I started doing that thing women do to get our pants on…you know first you grab the waist of the pants and you bend your knees and pull up, then sort of wiggle your legs and ass back and forth while pulling, then you resort to grabbing the belt loops and kind of hopping up and down, while shimmying left and right and tugging up as far as they will go. So here I am hopping and bending and shaking and wiggling and lifting up one leg and stretching it out while pulling on the belt loops, then bending and lifting the other leg and tugging some more while my husband is just watching me like I'm fucking bonkers. At this point I'm on the verge of tears because these fucking pants will not pull up. I decided to just button them and see how bad the muffin top would be.
That's where I got confused. The pants buttoned perfectly. But…how is that possible they weren't pulled up. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror and that was the moment I discovered that the pants were pulled up. They were pulled up as far as they would go because they are those new fangled low rise teeny bopper jeans. Meaning, I could have tugged for hours and the damn things wouldn't have budged another inch. I was fuming. The pants are cute.
Look how cute they are:
But they felt wrong. I spent the entire day constantly trying to pull my pants up. If I went pee I would instantly forget they were low rise and sit in the bathroom at work hopping around and jumping, and thrusting my leg out trying to pull the asshole pants up until it would dawn on me again, that these pants were built for 15 year old girls who think it's fun to walk around showing their asscrack.
I have worn the pants one other time because dammit I paid money for them and they fit, but I can tell you for sure I will never ever ever ever buy another pair of pants from a teenager store again. The Gap and I are going to be life long friends. Because seriously, I need my jeans to cover my ass crack…and then some.
And that explains the moment I realized…I'M OLD. My thirty one years is starting to show friends. I haz a sad over it!