I swear, I really don't complain this much in person.
(I'm pretty sure I don't, anyhow.)
According to at least two different well-known names in clothing, I don't actually wear the clothing size that is on the label of the pants that fit me. I actually measured myself, twice (once with assistance from an old body-measurer from wayback), today because I was curious to see what my new numbers were. Comparing what came up to the size charts, I discovered that I'm not actually a 20. No, I'm anywhere from a 22 to a bleeding 28, depending.
And yeah, I could wear those sizes, except that I'd also have to thread a piece of rope through the belt-loops to keep them up and I'd look like a hick who has no sense of anything -- fashion, shame, taste, whatever -- and I've done that, thanks.
It's just bizarre. I already have enough trouble finding jeans that aren't boot-, flare-, curvy-, sprayed-on-, or otherwise-unflatteringly- cut and not-pre-destroyed* AND that don't cost an arm and a leg. I wear pants so that no one has to look at my weird and lumpy ass and legs, THANK YOU.
Fortunately, I came into a little money recently and I'm thinking that I'll go to an actual mall tomorrow and maybe buy some actually-new clothes. I love thrift shops, no lie -- my last two pairs of pants came from value village and neither of them cost more than ten bucks; considering one of them is a pair of Levi's, that's pretty damn awesome -- but I'd like to buy more than one pair of pants at a time.
...also, I'd love another pair of the Old Navy jeans I have. They're five-button jeans and they make me feel a way I almost never feel and they're comfy and they fit, almost perfectly. (I'm short, and the legs are still just a weeeee teeny bit too long. Oh well.)
* Seeeeeriously. I'm supposed to pay $75+ for a pair of jeans that's already got holes in it? AhahahahahaNO.
According to at least two different well-known names in clothing, I don't actually wear the clothing size that is on the label of the pants that fit me. I actually measured myself, twice (once with assistance from an old body-measurer from wayback), today because I was curious to see what my new numbers were. Comparing what came up to the size charts, I discovered that I'm not actually a 20. No, I'm anywhere from a 22 to a bleeding 28, depending.
And yeah, I could wear those sizes, except that I'd also have to thread a piece of rope through the belt-loops to keep them up and I'd look like a hick who has no sense of anything -- fashion, shame, taste, whatever -- and I've done that, thanks.
It's just bizarre. I already have enough trouble finding jeans that aren't boot-, flare-, curvy-, sprayed-on-, or otherwise-unflatteringly- cut and not-pre-destroyed* AND that don't cost an arm and a leg. I wear pants so that no one has to look at my weird and lumpy ass and legs, THANK YOU.
Fortunately, I came into a little money recently and I'm thinking that I'll go to an actual mall tomorrow and maybe buy some actually-new clothes. I love thrift shops, no lie -- my last two pairs of pants came from value village and neither of them cost more than ten bucks; considering one of them is a pair of Levi's, that's pretty damn awesome -- but I'd like to buy more than one pair of pants at a time.
...also, I'd love another pair of the Old Navy jeans I have. They're five-button jeans and they make me feel a way I almost never feel and they're comfy and they fit, almost perfectly. (I'm short, and the legs are still just a weeeee teeny bit too long. Oh well.)
* Seeeeeriously. I'm supposed to pay $75+ for a pair of jeans that's already got holes in it? AhahahahahaNO.