|Blogs > Notbigbutwilling > The Aaaaargh!! Files|
I hate buying jeans. I just want to get a pair that fits. Is that sooo difficult?
I know my waistline isn’t what it used to be (it used to be the equator, ha ha!), but it’s on it’s way back. The rest of me is fine and trim, I just have a bit of a tummy.
I tried undoing my belly button to let the air out but it didn’t work. Tell you the truth, I was afraid I’d make a loud farting noise and fly around the room, but I’ve busted that myth!
Back to jeans. If you want jeans that fit, are well made and comfortable, you have to go…. Well you have to go back in time 20 years, that’s what!
They only make ‘fashion jeans’ these days. I wear jeans for not-very-smart casual, ie doing errands, cleaning house, fixing things, digging in the garden that sort of thing. I don’t really want to be paying more than $30 for them or else it’s a waste. But Levi’s ™ start at $100 these days and even THEY don’t fit properly.
You see, if you have a wider waist, then for every 2cm wider, you are expected to be 2cm taller as well. So, if you’re a Large, then you better be about 6 foot tall or they aren’t going to fit. In fact, I worked out that if someone takes XXL, they are supposed to be 7 foot 3 inches tall!! Met anyone like that?
On top of that, they don’t cut curved or tapered legs so your thighs should also be like tree-trunks or else, like mine, they look like they’ve been wrapped in curtains.
Why the hell would I or anyone want to look like we’re wearing two sacks stitched together! Even ‘perfect’ sized people don’t fit. It makes you wonder.
And there’s ALWAYS some smarmy size 8 or 10 bitch serving you, looking at you disapprovingly, whether you’re male or female. She knows stuff-all about fitting jeans, and everything you ask is a real burden, like she would rather be elsewhere than serving you. Or dead. Maybe that’s just MY wishful thinking, because the bitch I tried to get help out of today was probably better off that way ‒ they’d already declared her brain dead months ago judging by what little conversation we had. I know it sounds cruel, but she didn’t know ANYTHING about jeans or fitting them, but worked in a shop that sold nothing but them!
And they are all made of crap looking denim too. ‘Dirty-look’ it’s called. Crapwash I call it! Or, because they are made so baggy, ‘shitbags’. I’ll make my jeans dirty MYSELF! When they look that way, I’ll WASH them until they are CLEAN!!! What next? Making them SMELL like they’ve not been washed for months?
I left the shop. I didn’t ‒ much to the bitch’s dismay ‒ buy the ill-fitting, poorly made, overpriced, ugly jeans. I’ll wear my old ones. They look like two sacks stitched together, but they’re CLEAN!
I’ll lose another size over the next month and try again. Next time, I’ll bring Valium. Or a gun!