It took me nearly 45 years to figure out the secret of the universe. Or, I should say, the gateway to hell. It's jeans. Jean sizes and which brand of jeans we wear and how the jeans fit are the things that torture us, and I'm not going to take it anymore.
When I was 12 in the early 1980s, we were poor so I felt like I was the only one who didn't have Gloria Vanderbilt or Calvin Klein or Guess jeans. Luckily, I went to the Catholic school so we wore butt-ugly brown plaid uniforms every day and it was easy to hide the fact that I had big boobs and no cool jeans. Shoes were the true marker of a rich kid then—no real-brand Docksiders from my side of the ‘hood. But school dances meant plain clothes. Busted. No hiding from poverty when you could choose your outfit and everyone else was wearing new stuff from the mall. I had to dance with the tall Michael Wusinovitch to the very long "Stairway to Heaven" wearing fake-pocket-bedazzled Marshall's knock-off jeans. Later we made out in the cellar of the rectory, so I guess it didn't matter who had what brand jeans.
Today, for some reason, I continue to stress out about jeans. I was perfectly fine in my size 14 Gap jeans until I lost 50 pounds and got rid of all of them because I thought I'd be in a size 10 forever. Stupid fucking jeans decisions: there needs to be an awareness ribbon. Now I'm all muffin-top-city in the size 10s and I refuse to buy new ones so I’m working out/fake dieting (fuck chocolate, too) to get back in the 10s. Really, I should split the difference and buy a pair of 12s and call it a day.
And then I went and had three girl offspring jean-wearers. More jeans. Jeans are too big, jeans are too small… I need new jeans… I don’t want jeans from the consignment store, everyone knows they are from last year… I don’t care, I’m not spending $80 on jeans... It’s spring and you won’t wear those jeans in fall, so cut them off and make jean shorts for now.
Do you see what I'm dealing with? FUCKING JEANS. Stressing me out. Too old for this shit.
This is why black yoga pants were invented. Not for yoga. For when jeans give you a muffin top. I'm just going to buy more black yoga pants (Capri style, just in time for summer. There are black yoga pant shorts, right? RIGHT?) I’m done with jeans drama.
-Follow Mary McCarthy on Twitter @marymac.