Dem Jeans? Anyone? Time to pull out the high school burned CD collection.
I mean, we don’t KNOW Chingy wasn’t talking about post-partum jean shopping. This takes me back to a similar situation, at a debatably low point (day) in my life a couple of years back. I will even toss around the words “life scarring.” You can read about it riiiiiight here, but basically, I outgrew my jeans and made Brian photograph them for eBay. It made me consider anorexia, but I never made it beyond lunchtime.
Embarrassing eBay picture that I actually posted:
Since then, leggings, jeggings, and whatever other spawn of spandex came into style, so I am just now returning to the jean market. I’m a motivated buyer, but I ordered all my jeans online to try on in the comfort and privacy of my own home. That way, I can avoid the horrible fluorescent lighting of the Nordstrom dressing room. Nordstrom’s dressing rooms are confidence snipers. I avoid trying anything on in-store, unless I start bringing a wax pot and cellulite remover in my purse, but I’m positive the latter doesn’t exist. Yet.
Anyway, after the goods arrived, I shooed Brian out of the room. As I slowly turned the lighting up in our room, I realized that my trusty Hudson brand has worked another jean miracle. I’m happy to announce that I DID NOT have to soothe my troubled soul by hiding in the Costco sized Cheez-It box in my pantry and drink my cooking wine.
Talk about progress.