It all started Tuesday morning, the spring chill enough to make me dig further in my long pants drawer than I had in weeks. Hmmmm. Hole. Hole. So terribly faded I can't believe there isn't a hole yet. Too big. Too small. Why did I ever buy these, they look HORRIBLE on me. Hmmm.
After weeks of getting by with the one pair of jeans I own that DON'T have a hole in the knee (but ooh, they almost do) and my amazing sweater leggings, I'd had enough.
Clearly I am no fashion guru. Sure, I had my brush with abercrombie striped sweaters and Doc Martin's in middle school, because surely I couldn't have shown my face in public had I not. When in my inevitable teenage I'm too cool for mainstream stage I made my own hippie patchwork sided corduroys. Oh goodness was that the lowpoint? or was it that terrible hairbow I wore just on the very front on my head in 7th grade. What WAS I thinking?
I feel like I'm in the midst of a fashion re-birth. But wait, you had to first be fashionable to have a rebirth right? Whoops. (Please stifle you're own laughter, I'm giggling enough for the lot of us).
So you see, I'm due for a rehaul, or really a direction at all. Turns out it feels really good to clean out your clothes. Keep only the things that fit really well and make you feel great. And if you REALLY want a fashion ego boost? Slap some Burts Bees tinted lip balm on (because it's the closest thing you own to actual lipstick), don your fanciest old navy blouse (you know, the one you bought before Christmas when you realized all you had in the "fancy" department was a little black dress from college and a cashmere sweater with holes in it from the thrift store), and march into Nordstroms like you own the place and let your good friend Jamie, the most enthusiastic sales clerk ever, take over from there.
It was amazing.
Looking for jeans ma'am?
(fumbling with the one rack of jeans I could find, almost knocking it over) Um, yeah!
What kind?
Um, not mom jeans! (awkward haha, what does he MEAN what kind of jeans? I'm here because I haven't been shopping at a place other than Gap since 2008!...recover Becky, recover.)
Well, I'd like something youthful, not too skinny, but fitted. I'm short, so I don't look great in wide legs or flares.
(Jamie thoughtfully steps back and examines my embarrassingly faded Gap disasters)
Well girl. I know just what you need. We'll find you something fabulous for that petite curvy thing you got goin' on.
Sounds great! (oh man Becky, keep it together! don't let him see your terror and excitement)
I proceeded to blindly follow Jamie as he feverishly zipped around the store. Hemming and hawing and oohing over this wash and that length. Before I knew it I had 4 pairs of jeans that I never in a million years would have picked out for myself. But I'm polite, my mama taught me well. I smiled and let him lead me to a big fancy dressing room. I closed to door, took a deep breath, and unzipped.
Every girl out there knows what comes next. Ok, every NORMAL girl. If you're one of those girls who fits perfectly into a size 2 and doesn't' even need to try pants on because your slender backside slides in seamlessly every time....I HATE YOU!!! I mean, good for you. But if you're like me you kind of dread jean shopping.
I pulled the first pair off the hanger. Jamie had insisted I was a 6, but I was nervous that I wasn't and would have to ask him to please come back and get me a size bigger in every pair. I held my breath and pulled and wiggled and zipped. Perfection.
I think I spent 3 solid minutes just examining my backside in the 3 way mirror. What is happening? Oh. My. Goodness. Is that MY butt? Are those MY thighs? No way. NO WAY! Perfection.
And the next pair? Double perfection. And that weird pull on pair? oh my goodness. And those teal green almost skinny jeans that felt like brushed cotton? Man oh man, if I had all the money in the world.
How are we doing in there girl? Things workin out for you?
Oh yeah Jamie. Things are working out really well. I love them all!
Haha. That's what I thought.
After primping and preening in each pair at least twice more I made a decision. A really tough decision. I picked the most practical pair. The one I knew I could wear to the park with ease, but also pair with my fancy old navy blouse for a night out with Ian. I met Jamie at the checkout and he was pleased with my choice.
I told you girl! Those were my favorites!
I meandered around the fancy open air mall a few minutes more. SAvoring the experience and the freedom. I bought an Aunt Annie's pretzel to munch on during the ride home, you know, to authenticate the whole shopping experience. I browsed a few more places but bought nothing. Nothing could top Jamie and my amazing new pants that make me feel like myself. I may never take them off.
Jeans by Kut from the Kloth
PS: Jamie taught me how to roll my cuffs.
PPS: Jamie's Boss, if you're reading this, give that man a raise. He's gooood.
I need to meet Jamie!
ReplyDeleteOliver and I loved your post. I read it out loud to keep him from loosing it in the play station. Your thoughts are SO theatrical and lend well to hand gestures. ;)
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