The last thing I want is for this blog to become my soapbox or my complaint venue. But can I just say that I tried on approximately 35 pairs of jeans yesterday and not even one pair fit well enough to merit purchasing them. I mean, come on! The sizes are meaningless (I tried on an 8 that was too small and a 4 that was too big), and the price tag doesn't seem to have much to do with the quality of the jeans. The lemon juice in the paper cut came when I ventured to the men's section to look for clothes for David. The men's jeans look so ... simple. So few options. So baggy. Comfortable. I was practically drooling with jealousy.
And now, after an entire day of shopping, I'm still in need of new jeans. Unless I simply start wearing men's jeans, I see only three possible solutions to avoiding another highly frustrating shopping experience:
1. Become independently wealthy so I can hire a tailor to measure me and create the perfect pair of personalized jeans.
2. Become independently wealthy so I can live on a beach in Aruba and won't ever have to wear anything but a swimsuit and shorts.
3. Switch to sweatpants.
At this point in my life, option three seems the most likely.
3 comments:
karen, as your friend who loves you, i will not let you follow through with option 3. i will help you find a way for option 2 to work.
yes, tonya...i think we may need to hold an intervention...in aruba, of course.
You are so funny! This is the first time checking out your blog...it's great. Also, the car was just a rental so we can't claim it for our own glory!--shallon
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