Denim Blues

Yesterday I glanced down at my just washed jeans and noticed a dark, splotch of a stain on the thigh. I wanted to cry. And not just because I'm a peri-menopausal, hormonal mess who cries at car commercials one minute and wants to throw a brick through my TV because the Progressive Insurance Lady's voice annoys the crap out of me the next. Because I have only 2 pairs of jeans that really fit me properly and that was one of them. This means that soon I will have to SHOP FOR JEANS.

Unless you are a woman of a certain age and certain build (not a pre-teen and not anorexic), you may not grasp the horror that is SHOPPING FOR JEANS. Not only does it consume an inordinate amount of time that could be otherwise spent in more pleasurable activities (root canals and PAP smears come to mind), but if you emerge from your shopping with a shred of your dignity and/or self-esteem in tact, you can consider the experience a success, whether or not you actually purchase any jeans.

I truly think the denim industry is run by a conglomerate of sadistic, misogynistic, designers who, due to their state of starvation are psychotically delusional. No one, other than size 0 models or guys, can possibly look good in most of the styles that are in fashion today. If you want to look good in a hot pair of denims, leave your hips and thighs at the door. You are, of course, allowed to possess an ass these days, provided, of course, that it is of the perfectly round and tight variety, ala Kim Kardashian. Is it any wonder that SHOPPING FOR JEANS leaves most normal woman dejected?

Now, I am not a picky person. All I want is a decent pair of jeans that don't cost a fortune and that I don't need to spend more than the price of the jeans to have altered to fit. I live in denims. Jeans are my uniform, so to speak. I wear them to deliver meals, to work outdoors, and to work with children. I'm not going to pay $200 for a pair of jeans because they get messy in my work, and I don't get paid for what I do. When I attempt to find a pair of jeans to fit my needs, however, I am stymied by the schlock that women are willing to put on their bodies! For example,

• Low rise jeans: Who the hell thought that these would be a good idea?!! The first time I tried on a pair of these abominations, I thought, "Where the f- is the rest of the damn zipper?" I suppose they're considered a fashion "must have" for showing off those gorgeous tramp stamps, but I don't want to walk around all day feeling like my pants are falling down! And don't even get me started on their evil cousin the "ultra" low rise jean. Who wears these things? Girls who don't want to bother taking off their pants to have sex? 
• Wide leg jeans: Is this a joke? Like I need to have a pair of pants that makes my legs wider than they actually are. Maybe I'll buy a pair in gray and dress as an elephant next Halloween!
• Pre-torn, pre-frayed jeans: I don't know about you, but when my jeans start getting holes in them, I stop wearing them in public. Well, at least to anyplace important. Why anyone would pay good money for clothes that someone else has deliberately put holes in is beyond my comprehension. Bring me your good clothes and pay me--I'll take some scissors and cut up your jeans, burn a few holes in them, rip some seams, have my dogs chew on them, whatever you think is "haute couture.
• "Mom" jeans: You know what these are, the jeans with the waistline at your actual waist. Sounds like a good idea, no? Except that when I put these on, the waistline invariably comes above my actual waist, making me look like I've pulled my pants up too high or that my torso has become somehow shortened. Then there's the lovely pouch of excess material that "Mom" jeans seem to have right below the waist that pooches out whenever you sit, making you look pregnant. I admit, I do need a little extra material for my middle aged spread but not so much that it could fit a full-term uterus!
• Jeggings: The evil spawn of jeans and leggings, these monstrosities were supposedly a fashion must-have for 2010. Guess I missed that one! As if skinny jeans didn't show off enough of my bulges that I wouldn't walk out of the dressing room in them, now my nightmares will be haunted by being stuck in a pair of jeggings and having to leave the dressing room with my legs looking like a pair of sausages stuffed in denim casings.
• Mid rise, straight leg jeans: Here is what I want. And I see them on the shelves. When I try them on, however, my lower body must morph into a weird size/shape combination because no matter what size I try on, there is no jean that correctly fits my waist, hips, thighs, ass, and is the right length. Since I need to be able to squeeze my ass, hips, and thighs into the pants, I usually go for a size to accommodate those body parts. Invariably, however, the jeans are at least 4-6 inches too long and even worse, stick out at the waist in the back. You could easily fit your hand down the waistband of the jeans in the back and cop a feel! My waist is not that tiny, and I don't have one of those butts that you can set your drinks on, so what's the deal here? Maybe it's a conspiracy with the lingerie industry. Whenever I bend over or squat down, it's the "Lolamouse Lingerie Show," so I have to keep those undies looking good! I'm NOT getting a tramp stamp, though!