take one woman with low self esteem, but quite good hair
add one moronic illness
stir in some medication which causes hair to fall out
mix it all up and this is what you get...

Monday, October 17, 2005

Jeans can come true 

I bought the jeans.
Then the doubts set in.

As I observed the rigid fabric clinging to my not insubstantial thighs, I wondered if this fabric represented me, clinging desperately to my youth.

As I struggled, just a little, to fasten the button, I wondered if this was symbolic of my struggle against the ravages of both time and "lard".

As I regarded the artificially worn denim, I pondered on how I too had become worn down by life itself.

Should I, a 33 year old woman, really be buying jeans that require me to jump up and down in order to fasten them? I checked the bag and found that I still had the receipt.

But when I saw how they sat comfortably on my hipbone, flattening my stomach; when I saw how the back pockets were just the right size, positioned wide and low, to assist with the illusion which makes your bum just look a little more in proportion; when I observed the legs which were just a little bit too long (for me, that's a novelty); when I looked at the size of the garment and remembered the effort it took to get back down to that size again...

... "To hell with it, I'm wearing them". I cut all the tags off and strutted into town.

But I've still got the receipt.

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