And it was.
Right up to the point when I walked in to the store and stood in front of the wall that housed all the different jeans. Skinnies. Super skinnies. Low slung skinnies. Zip-leg skinnies. Straight leg.
Since when did jeans get so darn... skinny?
I liked the relaxed cut of the boyfriend jean, but didn't rock them myself, they just didn't seem to suit me at the time.
I like Kate Moss' grey jeans, but can never find the right hue or cut.
And the last time I bought jeans was about two years ago, when I found my very favourite Wranglers that I have worn day in, day out, and are now on the cusp of becoming paper thin. My bottom is also in peril of popping out of said jeans, in a public place near you.
The assistant came over and asked me if I'd like help. Yes please. I'd like help understanding the difference between skinnies. Super skinnies. Low slung skinnies. Zip-leg skinnies. Straight leg. And where exactly were my beloved bootcuts? Not exactly cutting edge hardcore fashion, but my favourites nonetheless. They balance out my hips and proportion with a gentle persuasion of.. denim.
Then the assistant summed up with 'Oh I gave these jeans to my Mum and she really loved them.' Here was a 20-something girl trying to sell me jeans by telling me her mother liked them. Hey sister - wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
I may be a mother. I may have two children. I may be on the wrong side of my 20s. But I am not your mother. I do not strive to look - ACK - mumsie.
I tried on three pairs. That's all the enthusiasm I could muster for these achingly cool skinny cut jeans. It's all I had in me. I tried them on and pulled them back off double-time and folded them neatly to be returned to the assistant. Then I strode out of there.
Just because I am not a teenager does not mean I don't want cool jeans. If you prick us, do we not bleed?
If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you wedge us into spray on jeans do we not want to curl up die in the foetal position?
I might have been on the brink of a mid-life crisis right there in that shop. I stormed off from my little family, heading back to the car. Thankfully I got detoured and wound up in the next store and I found a woman who nurtured me, we chatted about kids, I tried on some jeans. I wasn't freaked out. I wasn't about to start rocking backwards and forwards. She got me a t-shirt that would work with said jeans. She made a sale, and also made me happy.
I might have been borderline crisis-lady but that lady saved me. She redeemed our shopping trip. I am not a huge fan of shopping, but when I need to buy something, it has to be done. Does shopping ever send you into a frenzy?
PS - Pic is of the original Jean Genie - David Bowie.