In the past couple of years, I've noticed my, um, curves becoming a bit more, how shall we say, pronounced. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the extra 15 (give or take) pounds I've discovered on the scale. Still, this fact has had me on a continuous quest for the perfect pair of jeans.
Before kids, it wasn't so much a problem to find the perfect jeans. Three kids and 15 (give or take) pounds later, it gets a little trickier to find those jeans. Ladies, you know the jeans I mean. The jeans that don't make you look dumpy or old or like you're trying too hard to hang on to your youth (or like you're trying hard not to breathe and blow the leg seams out), or God forbid - Mom Jeans.
While I was out Christmas shopping with Punkin a couple of days ago, (yes, at Kohl's, why do you ask?) I remembered I needed a new pair of jeans. The two pairs I had left that still fit me were "dying." One pair has a hole in the knee, and the other got tossed in the dryer (again) by mistake. With dread, I approached the stacks and stacks of jeans. I picked up two pair of jeans I thought would fit and was headed to the fitting room when I spotted jeans with the tag -- "Curvy Jeans". I'll confess to making a kind of Tim Allen grunt as if to say "What have we here?" I thought, "Heh, why not?" They didn't have them in a long length, so I picked up a pair in the size I had hoped would fit with medium length.
Pair number one fit, but... ehhh. I wasn't sure about them. I turned this way and that, contemplating. Punkin said they looked fine (but she was bored out of her mind even though she begged to come with me in the first place - never take the word of a bored 10 year old).
Pair number two refused to be pulled up past my knees. Obviously, the size on the jeans was incorrect. I'm sure it wasn't *me*.
I picked up the "Curvy Jeans." Looked at them again. Pulled them on... Oh. Heeeeeeyyyy. They pulled right up, no fussing at all. And they buttoned! And zipped without trouble! I could breathe! Another bonus! I turned this way and that again, contemplating. I checked the length -- just long enough to allow me to wear shoes without it looking like I was waiting for a flood. I could even wear my boots with them! The length was perfect! Whoa. Momma likey! Punkin even said they looked good (I'm sure I detected a little more enthusiasm this time, surely I wasn't making that up. Punkin *wanted me* to have these jeans.)
Now, it could be that "Curvy" is the female equivalent of "Husky", but I don't care, and don't tell me if you know because I don't want to hear it. I refuse to go to the Levi's site and look up the "definition" of "Curvy" to see where the jeans have more room or how they're different from the other styles. I just know that I *love* my new favorite jeans, my Curvy 529 Levi's Jeans. I am going to wear them as much as I can and never ever throw them in the dryer, never.
Clearly, someone, somewhere finally realized we're not all the stick figures with sunken cheekbones and eating disorders in the advertisements. Some of us are curvy.