Do Skinny Jeans Really Make You Skinny?

A misnomer at best, but let’s just say that all trends are not created equal.  And some, skinny jeans included, are best left for the Hollywood elite and their real-life look-alikes, naturally and otherwise endowed.  Every magazine cover, TV fashion clip, and article, though, proclaimed skinny jeans as this year’s casual must-have.  So I was feeling some pressure, and the older I get, the more likely I am to break my lone golden fashion commandment: know thy body type.  Being a relatively new mother, too, certainly hasn’t helped my steadfastness.  I am more inclined now than ever to cling to my youth, even to my own fashion detriment. 

 

My enthusiasm when I began my quest for skinny jeans was palpable.  Nordstrom gift certificate in tow to eradicate most of my spending guilt, my mother at home to watch the girls, and an impending girlfriends’ getaway to justify the purchase.  I thought all of my bases had been covered. 

 

I headed for the juniors department, probably my first mistake, where all of the hot trends make their grand entrances (and mostly quick departures).  I must admit that there was some hint of apprehension even asking the sales associate to point me in the right direction.  Being 30-something with two children doesn’t exactly boost one’s morale in the quest for hot new trends.  Anyhow, I persisted, determined to find, try on, and purchase the goods.  And, you see, this was my biggest mistake of all.  Typically, when I go on a shopping mission of some sort, I am at peace with the fact that I may leave the store empty handed.  Perhaps not a good fit, not enough of a bargain- whatever the reason, I usually acknowledge the possibility that the purchase may not be in my shopping cards.  Not this time.

 

With the help of the young and trendy sales associate, I found the jeans and headed for the dressing room.  I somehow managed to paste the jeans onto my legs and get them fastened, but in doing so I am certain that I met my cardio exercise requirement for the day.  Immediately, and I do mean from the moment that I zipped them, I knew that I should have just let it go.  Chalked it up to a trend that would peacefully elude me.  The goal, after all, was not to accentuate my saddle bags and the post-pregnancy pooch that spills over.  I was going more for the suck-everything-in effect, which clearly I had failed to achieve.

 

I quickly removed the jeans, thankful that I was not in a communal dressing room, and headed for the cash register, blaming the ill-fated fit on inappropriate shoes and accessories.  They’ll be perfect when I get home. 

 

Wrong again.  Shoe after shoe only served to confirm what I already knew in my heart.  It wasn’t the shoes, accessories, or even the jeans.  It was me and the body I have on almost every occasion come to embrace and appreciate.  There are still those rare occasions, however, when I just hope, wish, and sometimes go as far as to pretend that my body is something I know rationally it is not.  Needless to say, the jeans remain in the bag, with tags, on the rare chance that one of my body-changing wishes will miraculously be granted by the fashion gods.  Hey, a girl can still dream.