I went to Kohl’s the other day with the intention of getting a new pair of jeans. What typically happens is that I buy a pair and then wear them to shreds, leaving the unmentionable area so close to tearing I fear wearing them in public. An apt description of my current situation, it was time to trade up. When I made it to the ladies’ section I perused my way around the juniors so-tight-they-look-painted-on numbers, past the Levi’s, to a friendly looking section with a sign that mentioned one of the many magical words in the female vocabulary, “slimming. ”
These beauties were by Gloria Vanderbilt, who may I remind you is a near nonagenarian, mother to Anderson Cooper and heir to a glorious fortune. My mom jean radar was ringing, but I loved it all the same. I grabbed two pairs of Levi’s to balance out the high-waisted situation and headed to the fitting room. I slipped first into the Levi’s, dark, low on the waist, my legs looked thinner but my muffin top spilled out over the edges of the pants. The second pair wouldn’t even go past my thighs. I threw them frustrated to the floor and heaved a sigh of relief and dread as I picked up Gloria’s latest design. They pulled smoothly over my curvy figure and buttoned easily…ABOVE MY BELLY BUTTON.
I pulled my blouse to cover the mom-age and then turned around to catch myself in the mirror. Wow, I thought, I actually look pretty dang good. i stayed in the fitting room for another long 10 minutes debating whether or not to cross the line, until my boyfriend texted me to tell me he was ready with his purchases at the front.
I walked to the front of the store and jumped in line behind him, mom jeans in tow. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” I muttered under my breath. “Words?” James said. “No, nothing,” I replied. I sulked out of the store glad that Kohl’s settled on opaque shopping bags to cover my illicit purchase.
RUNS WITH MARKERS 