Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Dear God, Denim is the Devil. . .
Wow, I can't believe I used to pay this much money for denim. I've only been off the fashion market for two years now (as I fell off the trendy wagon with 72 lbs of extra baby weight. . .yes, you all heard that right!). As I'm looking at these clothes, I feel like a sister from another planet. Two hundred and eleven dollars for jeans that I can only wear with three-inch heels? That's not going to happen. I haven't worn anything higher that a clog in a year. Nevertheless, Lord, here I am in the store, out without the baby, looking to fit into some normal clothes--or "new normal", I guess I should say. Please bless my little shopping trip by shutting off the voices in my head, the ones saying "fat" and "flabby" and "no-waist monster butt". Please help me to love and honor this new body--which created two lives, after all!--with jeans that won't break the bank or my self-esteem. Send me a sign, Lord: Somewhere in these racks there's got to be a decent pair of stretch dark-wash boot-cuts high enough to hold in this belly but low enough to make me still look hot. Some that flatters this new "curvy" butt enough to make my husband think I'm sexy without actually making him want sex (or not too often). Please show me a jean that won't rip out in the knees, because suddenly I'm on my knees a lot these days, God, crawling after my little men. Finally, God, if you could locate that perfect jean on the sale rack? That would truly be a miracle. Thank you.