It's leap year, and not only is it a leap year, but today is THE leap day. A whole extra day. The whole thing kind of blows my mind, I guess. Like, why only every four years? That is sort of silly. And who decided that, anyway? I am sure I could find the answers to these questions if the need really burned inside of me, but it doesn't.
But, in honor of leap year, and the extra day and all, I thought I would take some time to talk to you all about something I do about every four years: buy new blue jeans! Since it was a leap year, and it had been nearly four years since I had a new pair of jeans (hand me downs don't count!), I was long overdue for some brand-spanking-new pants.
Actually, I should divulge that I was having sort of a jean crisis. For those of you who aren't quite there yet, or who want to commiserate, allow me to elaborate. In your mid to late 20's, the jean crisis is due, in part, to the junior's section dilemma. When you get to a certain age you suddenly realize you have a woman's body that totally crept up on you. Not that it's a bad thing, you just hadn't noticed before, but now you notice and you realize how utterly mismatched you and your jeans have become. Why? It's in the sizing.
Men get to have their jeans explained to them in inches, which is awesome for them. But women, well, we get a much more ambiguous and complicated system that consists of set "sizes." These sizes are completely fabricated by god knows who, and are brand specific--it seems that no two brands have the same sizing system making finding pants endlessly frustrating for women everywhere.
For "juniors" (which is people aged about 12-20 from what I gather, or those who have't noticed their woman bodies yet), the sizing goes in odd numbers: 1,3, 5, and so on. For "women" the sizing goes in even numbers, 2,4,6, etc. Why the number games? Great question, but we are not going to spend any time on today. The point is I had jeans that were a size "5"--meaning I had junior's jeans. Not only that, but they were stretch denim, which I was totally sick of. They were making me feel fat, like, every day. The cut just wasn't right anymore.
I wanted JEANS--buttery, all denim jeans--and I didn't want to play the numbers game or tire myself out trying on millions of pairs wondering why I was a size 8 in one brand, a 6 in another, and then a 10 in yet another. Geez. Isn't there anyone who can simplify this for me?
In my denim-induced angst, I recalled something from the days when I worked retail--Lucky Brand Jeans. I had a pair when I was nearly at my thinnest, and they were a size 28. 28 INCHES. Not a 5, or an 8, but a lovely inched out number: 28. And then I realized we have a Lucky outlet. YES! I took myself down to the outlet with high hopes, and what do you know? They were met, possibly exceeded.
In a record 40 minutes, I had THREE pairs of pants that fit me perfectly and were amazingly amazing. The employees in the store were so helpful and attentive, which in today's world of bad customer service, really impressed me! And the jeans were on sale, and even still, weren't that expensive. One of the best parts? I am only 1 inch over my size 10 years ago--a size 29! I don't know how to amply explain how utterly awesome it is to have jeans that are flattering, fit well, and don't have an ugly size number on them. It makes my heart sing, and it puts a swag in my step that makes me white hot.
Ladies, we all deserve to feel fabulous in our jeans. Of course, money can't literally buy you happiness, but it CAN buy you Lucky Brand Jeans, and those jeans will make you feel like a million bucks, and if a million bucks isn't happy, then we're all screwed. So this leap year, why not treat yourself? You got a whole extra day to do it, so you betta get to it...or you might find yourself waiting another four years!
Happy LEAP year!
But, in honor of leap year, and the extra day and all, I thought I would take some time to talk to you all about something I do about every four years: buy new blue jeans! Since it was a leap year, and it had been nearly four years since I had a new pair of jeans (hand me downs don't count!), I was long overdue for some brand-spanking-new pants.
Actually, I should divulge that I was having sort of a jean crisis. For those of you who aren't quite there yet, or who want to commiserate, allow me to elaborate. In your mid to late 20's, the jean crisis is due, in part, to the junior's section dilemma. When you get to a certain age you suddenly realize you have a woman's body that totally crept up on you. Not that it's a bad thing, you just hadn't noticed before, but now you notice and you realize how utterly mismatched you and your jeans have become. Why? It's in the sizing.
Men get to have their jeans explained to them in inches, which is awesome for them. But women, well, we get a much more ambiguous and complicated system that consists of set "sizes." These sizes are completely fabricated by god knows who, and are brand specific--it seems that no two brands have the same sizing system making finding pants endlessly frustrating for women everywhere.
For "juniors" (which is people aged about 12-20 from what I gather, or those who have't noticed their woman bodies yet), the sizing goes in odd numbers: 1,3, 5, and so on. For "women" the sizing goes in even numbers, 2,4,6, etc. Why the number games? Great question, but we are not going to spend any time on today. The point is I had jeans that were a size "5"--meaning I had junior's jeans. Not only that, but they were stretch denim, which I was totally sick of. They were making me feel fat, like, every day. The cut just wasn't right anymore.
I wanted JEANS--buttery, all denim jeans--and I didn't want to play the numbers game or tire myself out trying on millions of pairs wondering why I was a size 8 in one brand, a 6 in another, and then a 10 in yet another. Geez. Isn't there anyone who can simplify this for me?
In my denim-induced angst, I recalled something from the days when I worked retail--Lucky Brand Jeans. I had a pair when I was nearly at my thinnest, and they were a size 28. 28 INCHES. Not a 5, or an 8, but a lovely inched out number: 28. And then I realized we have a Lucky outlet. YES! I took myself down to the outlet with high hopes, and what do you know? They were met, possibly exceeded.
In a record 40 minutes, I had THREE pairs of pants that fit me perfectly and were amazingly amazing. The employees in the store were so helpful and attentive, which in today's world of bad customer service, really impressed me! And the jeans were on sale, and even still, weren't that expensive. One of the best parts? I am only 1 inch over my size 10 years ago--a size 29! I don't know how to amply explain how utterly awesome it is to have jeans that are flattering, fit well, and don't have an ugly size number on them. It makes my heart sing, and it puts a swag in my step that makes me white hot.
Ladies, we all deserve to feel fabulous in our jeans. Of course, money can't literally buy you happiness, but it CAN buy you Lucky Brand Jeans, and those jeans will make you feel like a million bucks, and if a million bucks isn't happy, then we're all screwed. So this leap year, why not treat yourself? You got a whole extra day to do it, so you betta get to it...or you might find yourself waiting another four years!
Happy LEAP year!