My love affair with boot-cut denim started like any love affair: with passion. It was in my early high-school years that I first discovered Silver Jeans in a Maurices at our local mall. I tried on a pair, turned around to look at my butt, and was completely hooked.
We were inseparable. I bought pairs in every wash and multiple styles. I was in love, because as a curvy short girl, jeans had never really done much for me; they seemed to un-flatter all the right places. These made me look good in at least one way, and I loved them dearly.
The only downside to these jeans, and to any jeans, really, was that they weren’t at all flattering to my midsection. Like a boyfriend with a dark past, I began to wonder if these jeans weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Committed to the idea that Silver Jeans was my soulmate, however, I refused to yield to my doubts. I believed that the struggle of the muffin top was inevitable for anyone curvy, and that it was only something remedied by flowy tops and tummy-hiding tanks. I sentenced myself to a life behind yards of flowy fabric.
One day, I was reading a style article online about the best pants for your body type, when something really struck me. “No one should ever have to have a muffin top,” the article said. Wait, what? I had never thought about it before. As someone who had been unsure of her self-image and body, especially during junior high and high school, I think I subconsciously believed that denim was a punishment for not fitting the mold. Tight, muffin-top-inducing jeans were a way of reminding us all how far we were from flat stomachs and perfect abs. I had never once thought about jeans as just one option in a myriad of clothing choices.
That day, I realized what an unhealthy relationship I’d been in. My supposedly beloved denim had held me back. After a long, long relationship, I ended things. I was hurt, but it was for the best.
I’m now in a much healthier relationship with the jegging, and its cousin, the stretchy jean. Both are super-flattering for my waist, and still flatter my backside. Flattering pants have now allowed me to diversify in my choice of tops. I’m no longer limited to what’s “flattering,” or in other words, “what slightly resembles a tent.”
I’ve realized that clothing is made to fit us. We are not made to fit clothing. My perception that I do not look good in an article of clothing does not signify a problem with myself, but a poor choice in clothing. I spent years wearing unflattering jeans and hoping that someday I’d look better in them. Now I realize there are much better ways to spend my time, like coming up with long metaphors for my blog that compare inanimate objects to romantic relationships (kidding).
Life is too short to not feel the best about yourself that you can. Maybe someday I’ll go back to boot-cut denim. But it will be because I want to, not because I feel as if I have to. Maybe someday Silver Jeans and I can be “just friends.”
Are you dating a bad clothing trend you’d rather ditch? Or do you have a fashion ex somewhere out there? (Don’t worry, I won’t tell.)