Saturday, July 16, 2016

Jeans. ugh.

Ready for a Rant?


We are going to real talk for a minute. I will be talking about my weight, my size, and lots of unflattering things about myself.
No bashing. Only love here please.

I hit my prime probably the year after I graduated Indian Creek High. I was 5' 5", 115 lbs, tan, long dark hair. A total babe. I moved to Utah and stayed pretty much the same for maybe two years. Within that time, I met my hubs. I continued to eat like a 15 year old boy but it didn't matter. I was still skinny! My husband and I dated for two years and when we got married I realized I put on, maybe 5-10lbs, no biggie. Now with three years of marriage under our belt, (along with too many cheeseburgers) I am now at approximately 140lbs. Let that sink in. I am TEN pounds shy of my buff, 5"11 husband.

Okay so here is my rant. I used to work for American Eagle Outfitters. I have this weird quality where if I work for a company, I become oddly defensive and proud of that company. It's like my soul responsibility to defend the honor of the store.
So I only buy my jeans from AEO and I always refer people strictly for their jeans. While I worked there I could fit into a zero. It was super snug at first but they stretch a little once worn in. I moved to a size two and have been the same up until recently. (I know I will continue to eat healthier and work out more but I have just been so sick of only having one pair of jeans that fit, that I went to buy a larger size.) I was braced emotionally for going up a size.

So I go in to my beloved American Eagle, grab my favorite jeans in a size up and go try them on...
I couldn't even get it past my knees. There had to be something wrong. I walked into the store wearing my size TWO jeans. They were just a bit snug so I knew the fours would fit. But they didn't?

So I go back to the jean wall and grab a six. Confused and sweating a bit from trying to yank the fours on to my once petite frame, I returned to my fitting room with the six. Still snug. These were a bit smaller than the twos I had on upon entering the store. I told myself, they'll stretch, it will be fine.

The store had a buy one get one half off sale so of course I had to grab another pair. So I grabbed a skinny jean in a different wash (in a 6) and headed back to my fitting room just to double check.
Heck to the no! No way did this pair even resemble something that could fit me! At this point, I broke down. I sat on the floor of this dirty dressing room, with these stupid six's not even to my knees and cried. How could my athletic handsome husband even find me remotely beautiful? I feel like a piece of lard trying to fit into a hot dog casing. (the jumping around to get the pants on had added "sweaty" to that happy list of adjectives.)

I grabbed the eight squeezed into it and decided that was good enough. No way in this world was I going to buy a size ten.

I  went into the store to buy a pair of pants that actually fit me. I ended up spending almost $80 on two pairs of pants that hardly fit. And then cried all the way home.

You know what shouldn't matter? The size of my jeans. You know why? No one else knows what size my pants are. All people see is if they fit or not. Ya know what else? Sizes are stupid.




My two's that I wore today are the largest size on the bottom of the pile. The six's are in the middle and the eight's are the lightest pair on the top. Seriously American Eagle? This is dumb. I got so worked up today and felt awful because of the size I could hardly fit into. I will be marching right back to that store, getting the size that fits me, no matter the number on the tag.

I mentioned in my first blog post that this is really more of a journal for me. I don't make these for anyone else but myself. However, if you relate, wanna know a little more about me, or just want to read about someone else's life, you are welcome to read my ramblings. I began this as a feel bad for me, mean old jeans, pitty party. I ended it realizing that I can't change the way a company chooses to size their clothing. but I can choose how to let it effect me.

I am going to choose clothes that fit me. And I'm going to look dang good in those ten's.

Until next time...
-R

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