J is for... Jeans and a Small Joy

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.