Why is it impossible to find black jeans that
A. Don't show my butt crack
B. Fit over my calves
In my quest for black jeans, I discover that the current style is called jean 'leggings'. This translates into jeans that are so narrow, only a person with atrophied calves can wear them. For anyone with hips larger than Kate Moss (pre-pregnancy, heroin-chic), this is an incredibly unattractive look.
After leaving NY & Company in disgust, I try EXPRESS. A cute teenaged sales boy wearing a headset immediately accosts me. I tell him I'm looking for boot cut black jeans. He asks me what I want them for. I'm momentarily perplexed, since I think this might be a trick question. Uhhh, I want them to WEAR. He is shocked to learn that I don't like skinny legging jeans. Apparently I'm the first person to admit that they don't LOVE them.
He asks me my size. I hold up the 8 and two of me could fit inside these pants. I take a 6 and a 4. Mid-rise, slight boot. I'm a bit disappointed that the jeans aren't really black, but kind of slate grey. This boy who is my daughter's age, is quite the attentive salesperson. He knocks on my dressing room door inquiring about my jean's fit. He then wants to see me in the jeans. When I open the door, he and another salesboy comment on the jeans. I feel a bit embarrassed that two teenaged boys--one straight, one gay are looking at my butt. I tell them that something must be wrong with the sizing, because I've never been a 4 in my life. NOT EVER. NOT EVEN when I was anorexic. They both exclaim, Aren't you happy that you are a 4?!!!
Given that the jeans are on sale--buy 1, get one 1/2 off, I now have the problem of finding a second pair of jeans that fit. My ever-attentive salesboy tells me how important it is to have a second pair of jeans, for when I go out to a bar. I smirk--oh, I go out to bars sooo often. Get this--the underage boy actually tells me that he will TAKE ME OUT FOR A DRINK.
I'm guessing the commission on jeans must be pretty high. The salesboy must be under his monthly quota in order for him to resort in asking out middle-aged women.
He decides that I MUST try the skinny jeans, since he is convinced that I will look fabulous in them. Just to humor him, I try. As I suspect, I can't even get them over my calves. When he asks how they are working out for me, I tell him that they aren't. Undeterred, he patiently continues to pass more and more jean options under the door to me.
Finally I find a pair that fits over my calves and only shows a minor amount of butt crack, which will compliment the whale tail look. At least the muffin top won't show.