Third Time is the Charm

So I, like most women, have a bitch of a time finding jeans that fit. Everything is either digging into my hips and leaving these grotesque marks on my midsection or falling down and giving me a plumber's rear view every time I sit down. Not a pretty state of affairs. This struggle turns into a full fledged war when I am forced to factor in price. Cheap jeans are THE WORST. Absolutely nothing makes me feel worse than a cheap pair of jeans. I am serious--I would much rather try on bathing suits than cheap jeans.

And to tell you the truth, until recently, nothing put the "ass" in cheap ass like the jeans from Old Navy. I would put those jeans on, sit down, and WHOOPSIE DAISY! Is someone listening to Baby Got Back because you just saw my entire ass! I just flat didn't buy the things, even though they were cheap, even though I often heard their siren call as I shopped for jeans for everyone else in my family (and wow, did that make me feel like a jerk--stocking up on kids pants at Old Navy and then stalking off to the Gap to buy my own).

Then things changed. Old Navy changed their denim line, and I heard some good things on the blogosphere. People with asses...people like me...were buying jeans at Old Navy...and they looked good! I almost couldn't believe the luck. I needed some jeans (the Gap curvy flares that I have babied and hand washed for so long weren't going to last forever) so I placed an order. I found a pair that I thought was hella cute, and waited patiently. I thought my denim problems were over.

WRONG!!!!!!! They arrived, and I knew I was in trouble when I opened the package. The jeans were super dark, and the leg looked...small. Even worse, there was some kind of front pocket detailing (a snap or something) that screamed out to my hips and said, "Ha ha! I'm going to make you look like Idaho." Nevertheless, I tried them on. Surprisingly, they fit my hips and were comfortable in the waist. To bad they made me look like a fat hooker. They went down in to a skinny leg, although I had ordered (and the label said) boot cut. They were also really long, even though I had ordered (and the label said) short. I threw them on the bed in disgust. Why didn't they fit me? What the hell? The next morning, desperately, I wore them with a short dress over the top. This covered up the strange pocket situation and ginormo hips, and actually flattered the skinniness of them. I put on some big ole heels. Even better. My husband told me I looked like a Fly Girl (do they even have Fly Girls anymore?), but whatever. It worked. Mildly. My dress ended up getting wrinkled and looking less than fresh, and the jeans sagged after a while. Ok, well, it didn't really work. But really, neither did J. Lo's outfits when she was a Fly Girl. So there.

So the day after Thanksgiving they had Old Navy jeans for $15 for both men and women. Ok, now that's a good deal. I scooped up a couple of pairs for my husband, and sure enough, was tempted with the siren call of the INSANELY CHEAP JEANS. I went and got a pair, a lighter colored pair this time, that I thought might be looser. I threw them in my bag and didn't think about it. Should I have tried them on? Sure. But I was caught up in shopping fervor, and I tried to forget they were there. I brought them home. They would work, I thought. No weird pocket snaps, no strange skinny legs. These would be fine.

Not so much. The next day, I flirtatiously told my husband something in bed and then went to go get the house ready for Christmas. Being the naughty wife I am, I put on a pair of cute Christmas themed undies and the jeans. The fit was ok, although the leg was still a bit tight. But it was all ok for sitting around the house. Again, not so much. About halfway through the day I stretched myself out on the couch to read a wholesome Christmas themed Southern Living article. Too bad that in the process I had managed to show my Christmas themed ass to my entire family. That, my friends, is not wholesome, nor is it something that any four year old boy should have to experience. Once again, the Old Navy jeans had come down, and now my kids are not going to ever look at Santa's red suit the same again. Thanks Old Navy.

So I had learned my lesson. No more Old Navy jeans for me. I'm a Gap girl, I decided. But, of course, I'm writing this for a reason. My mom had not gotten the "Gap girl" memo, so when I fly home, what is sitting under the tree ready for me? Oh, a cashmere sweater...some pajamas...some cookbooks...and a pair of Old Navy jeans. My mom gets this big smile on her face when I open them, and says "I read online about how many people like them. I assumed you read the same things." I love this about my mom--that she's started reading fashion blogs now--so I smile and promise to love them.

And guess what...I actually do. I put them on the next day to run out to the grocery store, and sure enough...they fit. Amazingly well. There is no sagging, no digging. They just...fit. Perfectly. It is the absolute weirdest thing EVER. They actually even fit better than my Gap Curvy Boot Cuts, although the Gap ones have been worn to death. The length is even perfect on these jeans. I don't know. I'm excited to have new jeans, but I'm kind of freaked out by it too.

So here's the deal: if you're going to buy these things, and you should at least try, TRY THEM ON. Try on 15 pairs. I don't want to guarantee, because I don't do that, but you will find a pair to fit you. There may be one pair in the world, but if you have the patience, you'll find them.

Or you could just have your mom get you a pair. Mom's have a magic touch to fix boo-boo's and fit jeans. Oh, and to know what you're up to without even being in the same zip code as you. Yeah, Gabby, that means you. Clean your room like your daddy said.