There will be no photo to accompany this post -- the mental picture is bad enough
Those jeans sat in a bag in my closet, unopened, for nearly six months. During that time, I stubbornly wore my old clothing style, despite the fact that I often looked more like the nannies than the other mothers I encountered in my daily routine. I was not a skinny jeans person; I was bootcut, I kept telling myself. Fashion and fitting in be damned. I would be true to myself.
I've worn those bootcut jeans of mine so many times that they are about to spring holes in the knees. Even the nannies are beginning to look put together compared to me. As much as I don't care about sporting the latest fashion, I had to admit that my look had crossed the line from dated to downright scruffy. And thus it was that this weekend, while looking for something to wear that would not be truly embarrassing, I pulled that Gap bag out of the depths of my closet.
Somehow, after 6 months of seeing skinny jeans everywhere, they didn't look nearly as horrifying in the mirror. In fact, I couldn't quite see what it was that had bothered me so much about them back in August. And thus it was that I went off to take Evan to a birthday party clad in skinny jeans. And aw, hell, if I'm confessing this, I might as well admit the whole story. I wore them with pointy heeled boots. And I felt (God, can you see me blushing here?) pretty good about how the ensemble looked.
Please, please tell me that you're all wearing the same thing back in the States these days? Please tell me I'm not going European over here and that the local Starbucks in my home town is filled with skinny jean wearing Moms in heels...