If you’ve been reading for a while, you know that I’m working on my body. I don’t care to lose weight, though that is a definite bonus and I have plenty of weight to be lost, but I do care about becoming the healthiest me I can possibly be.
Through lifting weights and moderate cardio, my body is really beginning to change. I know that I’m losing weight so I don’t want to spend a ton of money on new pants, but I need something that doesn’t sag on my butt. My booty is too big to look like it’s sagging. I don’t want people coming up to me in the store to let me know I’ve got a little surprise in my pants or something.
So I ran to my favorite Sears to try on some new pants. I have 2 pair of jeans that fit which means that at least every third day, I smell a little stale when I have to wear 2 day old jeans. Mainly because nothing gets between me and my denim, if you know what I mean. *wink wink*
I shudder when I think about shopping for new pants. I’m shaped like a ladle. I’m really small up top but I absolutely explode from the hips down. When I hold my hands above my head, I look like you could use me to dip soup out of a giant soup bowl. The similarities are uncanny.
This causes some serious pants shopping problems. Pants are generally too large in the waistband and too tight in the thighs. I get this 4″ gap in the back of my pants because my butt is so much bigger than my waist. Back in the early 90’s when high-waited pants were the style, I lived with a perma-gap in my pants. It wasn’t cute. Gave me a huge complex. That sat right on top of my ample buns.
Then came the super low rise jeans of the early 2000’s. Have I mentioned that I have an ENORMOUS rear end? Even when I’m in the best shape of my life, my butt is super big. Those jeans did nothing for my dignity. NOTHING.
Which is exactly why I generally stick to skirts and dresses. Or used to. Now my thighs rub together and threaten to start fires between my legs when I walk, so I’m back to jeans.
Jeans in the snow.
Jeans at work.
Jeans for dressy functions.
Jeans in 125* heat with 98% humidity.
Pajama Jeans for bed. (I keed, I keed)
But the prospect of finding jeans that hug my butt, fit my hips, and touch my waist, all while being comfortable enough to sit down is anxiety-inducing.
When I got to Sears, I noticed a big sign for Lee Jeans. They were on sale so I figured I’d give them a try. I remember back in the day, my mom and I wore Lee all the time, but their classic fit always did “the gap” at the waist on me. I grabbed a couple sizes and fits, and ran to the dressing room before anyone saw that I’m STILL in a size 18 (in these jeans anyways). I tried the first pair on and was really impressed with the fit. They zipped up easily and came to about an inch under my belly button. They also didn’t gap at the back which is always so shocking to me. I had grabbed a “short” size and they hit the floor perfectly where they should rather than having a couple inches extra bunched up around my cankles.
I put on a pair of the classic fit and got a big gap in the back. Some things never change.
I ended up with TWO new pairs of jeans, one dark, one medium wash, and I am SO pleased with the fit. I’ve been livin’ the mom life in comfort and I’ve even had some compliments on my booty from people other than those in my immediate family.
What did I accomplish today in these jeans?
- Shuttled The Nerd to school after missing his alarm.
- Took The Muffin to the doctor across town because her cough was sounding really gnarly.
- Baked a batch of Brownie Bites.
- Hosted a play date.
- Made dinner
- Did bath
- Cleaned the kitchen.
- and now I’m writing this post in them. Comfortably.
#2 at work:
With a genuine comfort waistband and fits for everybody..
These aren’t your mom’s jeans, OK? They’re my jeans. I’m a mom, they cover my bubble butt, they skim my hips, and they fit my waist. So you can snark at me for wearing “mom jeans” all you want, but I’m going to ask you if you want coffee with that muffin top next time you walk by in your junior’s jeans while toting your toddler around. Then I might call you over to my house to repair my sink when you bend over to pick up the binkie that your babe dropped in the mulch at the playground and your butt crack hangs out.
My butt crack will be hiding securely in my new jeans – we aren’t single and lookin’ to mingle.
I think Lee should hire me to be their new “Real Woman” Spokesmodel, don’t you think?
I am a member of the Collective Bias® Social Fabric® Community. This shop has been compensated as part of a social shopper insights study for Collective Bias® #CBias #SocialFabric