Tonight I took a little detour from my usual mommy routine, and went shopping at a local thrift store. My sister and I are competing (only against each other) in a secondhand challenge, meaning that, for a year, we can only buy clothes secondhand. To be honest, this hasn't been much of a challenge for me since I don't have time to go clothes shopping anyway.
Because my personal time is so limited nowadays, I entered the store with a specific mission - to find a cheap, but comfy pair of jeans that both fit my thighs and my waist (ha!). The search began with promise. I found eight pairs that were my size (and yes, I was looking for my post-baby size) and were not what you might refer to as "mom jeans". Just as I was about to head to the dressing room, I over heard a couple in the next isle over. I thought it strange that they were looking for women's jeans together, but I eavesdropped on their conversation nevertheless.
Boyfriend: No, you need to find that kind of jeans that everyone wants. That makes your butt look firm.
Girlfriend: You mean Not Your Daughter's Jeans?
Boyfriend: Yeah, they're called NYDJ.
NYDJ.... The acronym rang a bell. I had just passed up a $7 pair. I vaguely remembered seeing them in an In Style magazine, described as being able to make one look a size smaller! So, after taking a quick glance over to the couple, I snatched them up and practically ran to the fitting room.
What started as a promising jeans hunt turned into discouragement and frustration when each pair was tighter than the one before it. Yet, I held out hope for the NYDJ jeans, for I still had them to try on! Usually when I try on a pair of jeans, I know right away whether or not they are going to work. The test goes - if I can get them over my thighs and I don't have a saggy crotch, they may just work.
Well, let me tell you. As I pulled on these NYDJ jeans, I had a smile on my face. I didn't have a saggy crotch, they were fitted around my thighs without making them resemble thunder, and my back end looked somewhat firm. They fit perfectly! And then I looked down.
To my dismay, someone had cut them off right above my ankle and sewn a very jaggedy hem. At this point, I threw up my hands and called it quits.
Instead of finding a cheap, comfy pair of jeans, I found a cute little one dollar clay pot. I happened to find a small joy amidst utter jean-hunting frustration.