jeans, the not-so-much love story

I recently bought a new pair of jeans and they were my first pair of actual skinny jeans (gasp!). I decided to take the plunge and buy my own after deciding to make a comprehensive inventory of my clothes: what I have, what I don't need, what I could use, and what I just want. As I slowly add pieces to the wardrobe, the jeans were at the top of my list. I also told myself that it is OK if I don't fit into my jeans from college anymore - that was, after all, 10 years ago now! So, these seemed perfect. The brand is well known for their good quality and design and I even found a pair on sale...

So, jeans. They have such a history. I love them. They go with anything, can be worn during all seasons with a sturdy boot, light pink ballet flats or classy black patent leather heels. They look so great on and can be so comfortable and flattering. However...

...they can also be a disaster if you don't buy the right pair or the right size (enter me, and my chronic jeans-fit-conundrum). Maybe I am a jeans snob or too sensitive and attached to my relationship with jeans. It is a multifaceted predicament and one that I can't quite put my finger on, but I always seem to get the wrong size or fit or design (!) I prefer to buy slightly more expensive jeans because I have found they last longer, but this makes parting with them so difficult (hence, holding onto them for 10+ years when it is clearly time to rotate them out and invest in a new, more flattering pair that is "with the style times"). The fact that I buy slightly more expensive jeans also makes me only want to buy them every 10 years. 

So, without fail, and on a strict budget, I did buy new jeans and they are too big and the derrière of the jeans is not flattering, according to me. They also cannot be returned. They can be worn and possibly shrunk in the dryer a bit, but these jeans will be with me for the next decade and I can't help but be bothered by my poor jeans decision making. My husband Adam can't believe I bought a pair of jeans with holes in the knees (he doesn't read Vogue like me). It may take another 10 years for me to get it right, but for now, it's me and "skinny" in it for the long run.