In college I bought myself two pairs of Gap jeans from my second home the Arden Fair Mall.
I can't remember how old I was when I got them, but I was at least 19 and no older than 21...so at least nine years ago.
I wore those jeans a LOT. A LOT.
They were tight in all the places you want tight jeans and loose in all the places you want some wiggle room. These were my Perfect Jeans.
After graduation I started getting fat...boredom and a sudden drop in activity level were the main culprits. The day I knew that I was seriously getting way too fat was the day I was driving home from work, stuck in the usual traffic jam getting onto the San Mateo Bridge and my jeans were **SO TIGHT** that I had to unbutton them to be comfortable. Boy did I ever feel like a cow that night back in my apartment.
The next day the Perfect Jeans got taken out of rotation temporarily while I got back into shape.
Since then the scale has gone up and down. Gym membership? Down! Babies? UPPPPP! And so on and so forth.
These jeans have stayed with me through all of this as sort of a reminder of what size I should and could wear and also a measuring stick of just how stinking fat I am. Jeans won't button? TOO STINKING FAT!!! Jeans zip up but are cutting off circulation? STILL TOO FAT!! Jeans slip on perfectly...Looking good ese!
Last night I was feeling crummy about myself. I was starving hungry all day (I blame it on breastfeeding) and though I didn't eat a bunch of BAD foods, I did eat a BUNCH OF FOOD! I couldn't help it, I was STARVING!
All that pigging out made me feel sad and gross and fat and ugly. Clearly, I needed to check myself, before I proceeded to wreck myself.
So this morning, I pulled out the old Perfect Jeans thinking there was no way they'd pull on past my big fat butt, nevermind actually zip up. At least I'd get an accurate measurement of how fat I actually am, more accurate than the stupid scale at least! I figured myself to be at about, jeans will pull on but not button size....
With a deep exhale, I got ready for the ultimate test.
I put my feet into the jeans. They slid over my ankles...step one! No cankles! Let's keep going!
I pulled the jeans up to my knees. They didn't get stuck! Step two! No fat knees! Keeeeeep going!
Up and over my thighs. No tugging! No wiggling! Step three! We're heading to hip-town and ass-ville!
I pulled the jeans up and over my big wide butt, zipped up the zipper and buttoned the button. I did all this without holding my breath!!
A choir of angels began to sing! "Hallelujah!"
I stuck my thumb into the waistband of the Perfect Fat Ass Judging Jeans and pulled the fabric about an inch and a half away from my body!! They probably fit just as good now as they did in college when I was young and kidless!
The angel choir was at full blast!
"Hell yeah!" I said as I stood in my closet amazed.
"MOM!" someone hollered.
"What!?!" I said, upset to be shaken out of my Perfect Jeans daze. The angel choir disappeared.
"Can you dress my Barbie kid??"
"Yes I can!" I said as I skipped happily into Mom Service for the day wearing my Perfect Jeans!