Last night I had a mission to accomplish. A new pair of blue jeans. The pair I bought this summer is too big (YAY!) and the ones I’m wearing from before I had the baby are dated and just plain worn.
So I last night I left Paul with the sick kids and met up with my accomplice. (You know you’ve got a good friend when she’s willing to follow you around trying on jeans and she gives her honest opinions.)
Now, as every woman knows, finding a pair of jeans that are both flattering and comfortable is about as difficult as finding a prom dress at a hay ride.
We got off to a rollicking good start when the first pair I tried on were the designers’ latest joke on woman-kind, the Matchstick Jean.
In case you’ve been living in a style vacuum, skinny jeans are all the rage this winter.
Now, I lived through the 80s once. I remember it well. I don’t care to relive it. And yet, out of morbid curiosity, I couldn’t resist trying on a pair.
Um. Can you say Rod Stewart circa 1985? Remember those skinny legs in those skintight jeans!? That was me in the Matchstick Jean.
And the look was just waaaay too reminiscent of my prized Guess jeans that I wore proudly in 1989. You know, the ones I pegged at the ankle and wore with ballet flats? Yep. Those. (The ballet flats are back too, by the way.)
In a fit of laughter, I exited the dressing room to model them for my accomplice, who proceeded to take a picture with her camera phone. (If she ever figures out how to transport that to her computer, I’ll be sure to post it for your entertainment.)
Needless to say, I left that store without those jeans. Or any jeans, for that matter.
We made the rounds to all my favorite stores, and we were about to abort our mission when I saw the Lucky Brand Jeans store — a store that specializes in blue jeans. I’d heard about it, so I decided to give it a try.
We walked in, and immediately there was a hip sales guy asking what I was looking for.
Now THIS is my kind of store. Good service and a hottie.
Uh, well. Jeans.
Great, what kind of fit do you like?
Well, I don’t want to look like a mom, but I want more than a 1-inch zipper.
He took one look at me and said, “I see. You have hips and no legs. Right?”
Well, now. Nothing like getting right to the point.
“You’re a Lola,” he announced confidently.
Lola. Who knew?
He went straight to the rack and grabbed a couple of sizes.
As it turns out, I’m not a Lola. Lola only has a 7-inch rise. But he hit the jackpot the second time, and I left with a pair of the Classic Boot Cut.
In and out in 20 minutes. The most painless bluejean shopping experience I’ve ever had. I’m a client for life.
Off we went to celebrate over a glass of wine.
And there might have been some cheesecake involved, but I’m not tellin’.