Life Lessons: Skinny Jeans

Sidenote: I didn’t get the Jennings memo till I saw a sign in the window of a local shop and assumed it was a typo.  Who could be so silly as to make a giant sign with such a glaring error?  Well, I was the one making the error!

I went shopping one day last year with my roommate Ellen, who is so fit and stylish that it makes me jealous and proud all rolled into one little rum ball. She coerced me into buying my first pair of skinny jeans, a trend that I thought would accentuate my pear-shaped body and make me look utterly ridiculous.  Never mind that some of the curviest of my friends rock the skinny jeans all day long and I never think that their bottom halves look ridiculous.  That’s the way it is–as I’m sure you know.  Everyone else looks good, but I certainly don’t. The curse of modern-day women: body envy.

I put the skinny jeans on and I was terrified yet enamored.  They were tight but yet they smoothed my imperfections.  Ellen suggested I do some squats to move into them. That helped me feel at home. As the year progressed, I wore them more and more, but conservatively. I only had one pair, after all, and I needed them to last.

Tonight I was boogieing to some Fats Domino — a record we possess but which I’d never taken the time to listen to — and it was glorious.  Right when I was really moving, “RIIIIPPPPPP.”

That’s the peril of skinny jeans.  They rip when you boogie. I’ve also been informed that they can rip when you ride bikes too.

And now for your boogieing pleasure, Fats Domino, I’m Ready.

Questions? Comment? Cigars? Cigarettes?

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