Why not call it like it is? This post is all about jeans for those of us not quite proportioned like adults. And while I’m not tiny in the sense that some people are – I still have curves and a bust – I am hopelessly short and finding jeans that fit off the rack is like an exercise in withstanding medieval torture. I’m not even being dramatic – jeans shopping makes me want to both run 12 miles and eat my feelings in frozen yogurt simultaneously. Up until two weeks ago, I had ONE PAIR OF JEANS that fit and that I wore regularly. The rest were either outdated and gathering dust or had been given away to Goodwill. Things were getting dire.
When my sister-in-law suggested hitting up a certain ye old high school shopping spot for jeans, I was skeptical. I mean, does anyone still shop at – wait for it – The Buckle? Have we not progressed past this place? Apparently, we have not. And as she pointed out, they basically only sell jeans. If there’s anywhere that’s going to have a multitude of options, it’s them. And so, with bowed head and tears in my eyes, I once again pilgrammaged to The Buckle, feeling every bit the 14 year old girl I was the last time I shopped there.
A lovely casual sales guy gave me the eye as soon as I walked in. “‘Sup,” he said, looking me up and down. Normally I take umbrage at being sized up (taking umbrage is one of my favorite activities) but since I needed this man to size me up and dress me, it seemed only appropriate.
“Hey. I’m 5’ 2” with extra shorty legs, curvy, and really hate jeans shopping. Can you help?”
This man gave me two more seconds of stare, and then pulled a pair of jeans right off the rack. “Try these,” he said. I took them and prepared for the litany of issues that inevitably crop up the minute I wiggle my tiny legs into pants. Only…that didn’t happen. These jeans fit like a glove. They made my butt look good, my legs look normal length, and didn’t make me want to run to the nearest fro-yo establishment.
“Sir! How – HOW – did you do this? These are the first off the rack jeans that fit that I’ve EVER tried on!”
He chuckled, complimented me on my ass (again – going with it) and then said, “Um, that’s because they’re capri pants!”
Indeed, reader. If you look at the inside of my new jeans (two new pairs, thank you very much) it says right on the tag: Lolita Capri.
And you know what? I don’t even care. Because this is the first time ever I have not had to have my jeans tailored, and if that means feeling a little special every time I put these jeans on, then I’m not going to take umbrage – I’m just gonna go with it.