I hate shopping. hate it.
I have tried on about 50 pairs of jeans in the last few weeks, and NONE of them fit like my beloved AE jeans that they no longer make. And I don't think it's because i'm not very far into my "fit again" plan. It's a problem I've had my whole life, even when I WAS fit. Jeans just don't fit me. The waist is huge if the legs fit, and if the waist fits, I wouldn't know it, because I can't get them up past my knees. And I think I have a pretty average size body. Apparently not average shape though, or they'd have more jeans that fit me. And I have a range of sizes that I wear, depending on the brand, and the cut, and all that. So shopping is just torture.
I don't want teenager jeans. I don't want "mom jeans." I just want my favorite boyfriends. they were perfect. (until the upper thigh holes appeared anyway.) they were the only pair I've EVER loved.
and the kicker...
I was out tonight (braving the cold and wind because my need for jeans is consuming my every thought) by myself, browsing through the store, on the phone with my sister. I picked up a pair of jeans for steve that said the right number on them. then I proceeded to try on NINE pairs of jeans in a variety of sizes. And I left with two pairs, not because they fit well or because I liked them, but because I need something to wear on my bottomside.
okay, so anyway, I bought one pair of jeans for steve because they were the right size. and they'll probably fit him, this ONE pair I got. Because that's how it is for guys. They have a size, and that size fits them. and I want to be a guy.
but in the meantime, and forever, I'll continue to search until I find something similar to my favorite boyfriend AE jeans. (and no, their current favorite boyfriend jeans are NOT what I'm talking about.) and I'll cry. big sad teardrop shaped tears over the loss of what will never again be.
and I'll continue to hate shopping.
Oh, but just for the record, I just had steve try on his jeans. and they didn't fit him. Which makes me mad and glad. mad because much of this post (about me wanting to be a guy with a number that fits) doesn't mean anything anymore, and glad because it would have driven me crazy to witness it once again if they would have fit.