So, I have been wanting a pair of designer jeans now for a while. I wondered what all the hoopla was about, if they really could take my large, jiggley butt and make it look firm and not so long looking. I had a bored moment and went on ebay, broke into my husband's account, and bid on a pair of Seven for All Mankind jeans.
I didn't think I actually got them until Joey came to me a couple of days later and said he got an email saying he had to pay for a pair of jeans he bid for on ebay. Yay!
Here's the kicker, the part where being a total female comes in: I ordered them a size too small.
Yes, yes, I did. Totally serious. My thinking, at the time, was that if I ordered a pair of jeans just a tad too small that I really really really wanted wear, that I paid a good amount of money for, then I would be motivated to stop eating so many darn oatmeal cookies. And batter.
When Joey saw the jeans, he was even more perturbed than when he had found out I hacked into his ebay account. "Those look small."
"There not too small," I said. "I just need to lose a couple of pounds."
I tied them on for size and sure enough, they'd be a great fit for Barbie. I somehow managed to get them shut without ripping a gigantic run right down the butt (which I have done, on occasion), and then managed to walk, barely, out to the living room to show Joey that they fit.
"You look like you can't breath."
Hmmm. Come to think of it, was I breathing?
I tugged them off.
Joey told me I looked great the way I was and trying to lose weight to fit into a pair of jeans wasn't very healthy.
I just called Plato's Closet and they said they'd probably give me around fourteen dollars for them. Sniff. Sniff.
I could try to re-sell them on ebay. Or Craigslist.
And yet all day long I keep thinking about how I can lose, or tone up, to fit into them. What I tell ya? Girl, all the way to the core.