I’m not known for my fashion sense. I’m not known for my
effortless manner of dressing that manages to combine
”
hip
”
and
”
trendy
”
with
”
casual mom.
”
Heck, I’m not even known for being able to match my
clothing.
I’m not known for my fashion sense. I’m not known for my effortless manner of dressing that manages to combine “hip” and “trendy” with “casual mom.” Heck, I’m not even known for being able to match my clothing.
That’s why I wear jeans. I don’t have to worry about my shirts matching my pants, because everything looks fine. Except the jeans themselves, of course.
Finding a good pair of jeans is like finding a baby sitter who charges less than minimum wage, doesn’t have a boyfriend who drops by your house to keep her company while the kids sleep and is always available for Saturday night with only a half-hour notice. In other words, flattering denim is impossible to find.
I blame celebrities for this. Actually, I blame Britney Spears. Way back before Britney became a mom and started making shockingly bad parenting decisions in public, she single-handedly brought the low-rise jean into fashion. Actually, she brought the world something called the “ultra low-rise” jean, which caused waxologists to jump for joy, since nobody can wear ultra low-rise without a wax.
I’ll be honest here: I hate Britney Spears for that. Waxing aside – and just so you know, I’m not a big fan of waxing since I make it a point to avoid doing things to my body which cause intense pain – ultra low-rise jeans aren’t flattering on everyone. In fact, unless you look like a pre-parenthood Britney Spears, the minute you put on a pair of low-rise jeans, you get a muffin top. And trust me, when I say that REALLY isn’t flattering.
A muffin top (as defined by my neighbor after a glass of wine one fine afternoon) is where the fat that doesn’t fit in your low-rise jeans spills over the top. Yes, it does look exactly like you are picturing it right now, and yes, I do apologize if anyone’s retinas were burned by the image.
Anyway, we have Britney to thank for the muffin tops that have taken over the nation – not to mention the sightings of unmentionables that have occurred whenever a person wearing low-rise jeans and not-so-low-rise underwear bends over.
Let’s not even get into whale tails. That’s when your thong shows. The truth is, I believe very strongly that low-rise jeans should come with the warning label “may cause the wearer to exhibit signs of old, ripped panties, whale tails, or butt cleavage. Use with caution.” Of course, like every other caution sign, women would ignore it. How else can we explain the dramatic rise in plumber’s
butt and the dramatic lowering of waistbands? Coincidence? I think not.
Low-rise jeans aside, there is a new phenomenon coming to a store near you this fall, and it’s equally unflattering. It’s the straight-legged jean, and unfortunately, these also only look good on women with a pre-motherhood Britney Spears type of body.
Look, I’ll be honest here. I tried on a pair of straight-legged pants and I nearly had heart failure in the dressing room. When you are rounder than you are tall, wearing something that closely fits your legs, waist and rear makes you look like a blueberry on stilts. I could not get those jeans off fast enough. My retinas are still burning with the fire of a thousand suns thanks to that image.
But if that wasn’t enough to make me want to wear skirts for the rest of my life, I found something else very disturbing in the jeans section of the store. I found “mom jeans.” I know. I don’t think I’ll recover from the horror, either. Mom jeans are a terrible thing to find when you’re not prepared. They’re high-waisted jeans that rise nearly to your bra, creating a muffin top that closely resembles a second bust.
Mom jeans are seen on women across the country and frankly, I don’t know why. If the second chest isn’t unflattering enough, the mom jeans have a wonderful way of squishing your butt fat to the side, making you look like a cowpoke wearing huge, blue jean saddlebags.
Yes, yes, that might be enough burning of the retinas. But all things considered, jeans are still my favorite thing. I love them when they’re old and soft and have been washed a million times. Nothing says happy like a good pair of jeans. But I’d prefer to find a pair that didn’t cause a muffin-top, blueberry-on-stilts or cowpoke saddlebag look.
Yes, I am dreaming the impossible dream. But it’s my dream.
