Dear Skinny Jeans,
Why won't you just die already? Why are you a thing that continues to exist in my world? Who invited you to the fashion party and told you, you could last more than one season? Ugh! Look, I don't hate skinny people. There's nothing to hate. They were born skinny and will die skinny, just as I was born curvy, and will die curvy. I know this because even at my ultimate skinniest of skinny moments where I went HAM and lost 50 lbs in a summer (would not recommend to mere mortals), I still had a butt, and I still had some thighs, hmm-k, but I like that about me. I'd rather be me, then skinny, because just like being skinny is great for the skinny girls, being curvy is great for me...that is until I encounter the jeans section, nay, the entire pants department at any store within a 50 mile radius. Those "skinny" pants are everywhere. They are distressed, they are multi-color, they have cheetah print, they are acid washed, they are made from leather to pleather and not a single one of them looks good on me. Ever put something on, and said to yourself: no, just, no? Well I've done that like 20 times now, which I believe is the definition of insanity because I certainly hoped each time they would magically look like the did on the models in the magazines.
Wearing any type of pant that goes from my delicious boo-tay, over my thighs, to then choke the life from my ankles, is a silhouette that disturbs me. I mean whatever happened to boot cut, beautiful bootcut? Oh those were the days where my closet was lined from front to back with jeans galore. Boot cut flatters every woman because it provides an even balance between top and bottom half of the leg and it doesn't provide any type of exclusion in the name. I mean, does not being able to really wear a skinny jean mean you're not skinny, and therefore not worthy of said pant? It's the most judgey type of clothes I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. Realistically these aren't really jeans at all, they are glorified tights. They're like 3 notches up in thickness from being a pair of tights or leggings which the closest I'll get to that is capris at the gym and the gym only.
I know there are people who believe you should just wear what you want and be happy, but that's just it, squeezing myself into those jeans doesn't make me happy. It makes me look at the mirror and think, "# regrets." I want to wear things that make me happy and make we want to flaunt what my momma gave me, not force fit myself into a trend just because somebody out there in the fashion world decided for the entire female population that this was it and let's HIDE all the boot cuts from every shelf in town (you monsters!). I mean, that's really it, isn't it? You can't let "someone out there," that doesn't know you or your body type tell you that you can or can't wear something or that you should or shouldn't wear something. At least for me, part of growing up (aka, slowly dying) has been to realize that I know what works for me and what doesn't...she says having, what did I say earlier, tried on 20 pairs of these things...but, but, but, I never bought a pair, so even though I may have been in some sort of denial, it didn't actually cause me to do anything I'd regret later in all those digital photos that never ever seem to go away (I'm hissing directly at you through clenched teeth 'that wedding' of 2014).
So in conclusion...this