Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Jeans, Glorious Jeans. Suits, shmoots.

I recently bought three pairs of 'used' jeans on Ebay. I have to say, the word 'used' is sort of dirty. I think second hand would be better. 'Used' makes you think of ....well unsavoury things that I probably shouldn't mention. But anyhoo, I did my usual search for 'flared jeans' and 'wide leg jeans', as they no longer seem to exist in a 'new, un-used sense.' (Sadly, for me.) And I managed to find a few options.

So they arrived a day after each other and I think I'd paid £8.00 each for them (including shipping). The first ones to arrive were River Island, size 10, dark blue. And guess what? They just about fit but I couldn't pull them up enough because my thighs are mahoosive. So if I do ever wear them, we're talking dresses over the top and vests tucked in, as they ride so low there is definite danger of things being on display you don't want to be. (Knickers....you sickos.)

So then, the next pair arrive and I'm well excited because they are black flared cords, also size 10 and I haven't had black cords since uni and I'm giddy and..........They're about 2 inches from fastening around my huge waist. Bastards! Disappointment. Hatred of self and of course cursing of the cords.

But all was not lost. The third pair arrive, in a box. Yes, a box. I got jeans in a box. Very strange. And they were Next, size 10 and lo and behold they're too big. I mean they fit fine - they don't fall off or anything -  and are actually really baggy on me, but they are super dark blue and they have press studs on the pockets - anti-theft device - which I like. Sadly, they do look I'm saving space for man parts I don't have, but that problem can always be solved with a long top or more commonly if you're me, a dress over the top.

So, what should have been three successes, was sort of 1 and a half really. The cords are a no go. I contemplated having them as a target to work towards, but I haven't got that much determination anymore. Plus if I was thin enough to fit in those, everything else I own wouldn't fit and then I'd only have one pair of jeans that fit me. So I think I'll find a thin friend and pass them on. Ha ha. It is strange though that they were all supposed to be size 10 and yet 1 was no where near; 1 was half and half - owing to my huge thighs - and 1 was too big. No wonder women create complexes about themselves. One shop you're one size, another shop you're another. It's a mind fuck and a ball ache and pain in the god damn neck!

I think we should revert back to waist size and length size, like they do for men. It makes sense and then they will actually fit you right, instead of half hanging off, leaving enough room for additional crotchal appendages, or refusing to 'urch up. Or just plain refusing to meet in the middle and fasten. H and M do actually do waist and length which is great, the only problem being that they only do skin tight, painted on and boot cut. And we all know what a joke boot cut is. I tried some on and they were so skin tight I wondered what the hell the skin tight would look like. Is it too much to ask that there is a gap between the material and my legs????

I just can't exist under the microscope of skinny jeans. It would feel like I was on show, under scrutiny, being judged on the size and shape of my legs and all their contours and undulations. Nah. Not for me. I won't even wear leggings with a dress over. And when I wear my stretchy pants for jogging, I wear a skirt over the top. Paranoid android! I don't mind the stretchy ones that cling at the top but flare out a little at the bottom. Still, they no longer seem to be in operation either.

Sorry, I do apologise as I know this is the millionth time I've complained about this and it probably won't be the last. But I guess this is ranting at it's finest: repetitive ranting. If it pisses you off enough, you'll rant about it again and again. Ha ha.

I'll change the subject slightly. Where I teach later on today, I pass through a very law/solicitor influenced place and everyone wears a suit. I stroll through with jeans (not skinny ones, of course), a t-shirt and two massive bags of musical instruments. One of my bags says I heart NW5, the other is a rucksack with red stars on a black background. I really do brighten the place up, otherwise it's all grey and black suits, with matching briefcases and stuffy seriousness. No, I definitely add something to the air.

It just makes me so glad, when I walk around these places that I chose employment that would ensure I never had to wear a suit, or anything posh, or formal, or heaven forbid, heels. The idea of being that uncomfortable every day of your life. They don't get dress down Fridays or don't have to wear a tie Fridays. Part of me wonders what they would look like in a pair of vans and some jeans. Probably all wrong, like teachers when they go on a school trip and they try to get down with the kids. Nah, it's not happening. Or, they'd look as ridiculous as me wearing a suit and attempting to look professional. Ha ha. Ridiculous!

Still, I am so happy that I chose the path of eternal jeans and trainers. A path were pyjamas for most of the week are an acceptable working outfit and heels are forbidden, not least of all because I'm in the house 60% of the time, but also because carting around heavy musical equipment with heels on would make me even more crazy than I already am.

I worked as a children's party host and play centre supervisor and guess what I wore......Jeans and a t-shirt. Ta-da! I worked in a Costa coffee and wore black trousers, trainers and a Costa shirt. I worked in a nursery in Manchester wearing black trousers, trainers and a t-shirt. Then I worked at a nursery in London wearing whatever the feck I wanted but which shockingly consisted of jeans, a dress and trainers. Quality choice of employment. No suits, posh dresses that I wouldn't  be able to wear jeans under, heels or uncomfortable jackets with shoulder pads. And no briefcases but a beautiful red leather satchel. Man I make good decisions!!!!

Okay, so that was the quickest blog ever. I just wrote all that in about twenty minutes. A blog blur, where it just splurges out of you in one go. Awesome! If only I could project this feeling into my synopsis writing, it would be done in no time. Instead I ponder and panic and produce piles of steaming crap. Ah well. I'd better crack on with that. It isn't going to write itself. (Sadly. I mean how cool would that be? A synopsis that wrote itself. Pure bliss!)

Happy Tuesday everyone. It does appear the London sun is out, but the sky is so oddly white I'm not sure what is going on? Kids will be thinking, 'I thought the sky was supposed to be blue.' Me too, kids. Me too.




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