Today was a good day. I bought new jeans. Now indulge me while I explain.... Every woman can tell you that successful jeans shopping ends with no tears and a jeans purchase. Most women have some story about trying to find the "perfect pair of jeans" and ending up in tears over a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream instead.
So I went to the store, not even looking for jeans, and found a cute pair. Assuming one cute pair would not a purchase make, I perused the racks until I found four cute pairs, and decided that either one of them would fit or at least I'd stop before I was reduced to crying. Then some miracle happened. All four pairs fit, and fit well! Well, I had decided to buy one pair should I find a good one... so I bought three. Come on, three perfectly fitting pairs of jeans in one shopping trip? This is the stuff of legends.
Naturally, as soon as I got home, I had to put on a pair. So I did. They still fit! (I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes clothes change shape in the bag after purchase and do not wear as well in the bedroom mirror as they did in the changing room).
Now, this new pair of hot jeans is the slim leg, low rise kind, and this is foreign territory to me. I'm not a size six; I'm not a size twenty-six either, but I'm in between enough to feel anxious in low rise pants. Oh, and I have hips. I am certainly not shaped like Kate Moss.
Anyway, the empowerment I felt in the dressing room when these pants slid up over my hips and buttoned like they were tailored for me was being replaced with a renewed sense of self-awareness, and that brought on the nervousness. I could not get an accurate rendition of how my butt looked in the low rise jeans, but I remembered all-too-well how a friend of mine's looks, and it's not all that pretty. I did not want people to think of me what I thought of her when she wore them.
So I chose a slightly longish tee shirt to wear with the jeans, in hopes that it would sit quietly on the hips and cover the top of the jeans. No such luck, but I did not learn that until later in the day.
Embarking out again, I picked up my daughter from school for a doctor's appointment. I was not kicked out of the school for indecent exposure, so I felt a bit better. Next I went downtown to the children's hospital. A young doctor held the elevator for me, and he noticed my jeans with a light grin. Considering I was pushing a wheelchair and a stroller, this made me feel a bit more confident. Leaving the hospital, another man held another elevator for me and also took note of my jeans. I grinned and stood a little taller. Finally, a soldier ran into a car noticing me instead of watching where he was going. Yeah, it was a good jeans day.
Now I am not trying to be smug, but there is power that comes with confidence, and confidence that comes from being favorably noticed. And it was my teenage years the last time I had a day like today. I wish one on each of my readers, male and female. Not because I am an advocate of vanity or superficial beauty, but because everyone needs to feel sexy from time to time. Apparently a good pair of jeans is good medicine. Anyone for shopping?