Jeans, a staple of the everyday wearer, dress them up, dress them down, the are like the colour black, will go with pretty much everything.

I havent warn jeans in ages, I can’t remember the last time I wore a pair. I have them hidden away in my closet, among the clothes that used to fit me. I have been reduced to elastic waisted skirts, and cotton pants.

I am going away, this weekend and I knew I had to go and get some jeans. For most women the idea of clothes shopping is a dream, a fun experience, a right. For me its anxiety and fear, every store is different, every type of fabric sits differently, every desgin is shaped differently. No pulling off the rack and walking up and just paying. No op shop bargins for me.

I knew though the safest place to go, for any woman of my size would be my local city chic, where the clothes are desgined with my shape in mind. While other stores may have larger sizes they never think about the shape of the clothes, city chic does.

I went in still worried. I was freaking out that maybe the size I was thinking I would be would be wrong and I would have to go a size up, I hated it.

As I looked along the shelves I started to panic, nearly everything was skinny leg, until finally I saw them, bootcut. I can’t in my own mind pull off skinny leg, I am not made for it, at this moment in time.

I found a pair of 16 regular and a pair of 18 regular. The 16 were the normal blue, while the 18 were black. Standing in the change room I knew what I had to try first, I hated it. I didn’t want to be an 18 I wanted to still be a 16, I knew though it wasn’t going to be that way.

For the first time in ages I slid a pair of jeans on, and they fit. I knew they would be a little loose around the waist, but still a 16 would be slightly too tight. I did the sit down test.

for some people who don’t know, a sit down test is to see for me personally how much of my belly moves forward. I didn’t want to be cut off. I am not delusional, I know what I look like.

They were comfortable, you could still see the tiny bit of belly sticking out, but a 20 would start falling off. I just had to accept the flaws I have.

It was the shortest time I have ever had to be in a change room, and it is a costly expense being large then the norm. I am just grateful that i dont have to run from store to store trying to figure out what size I am in each.

This was a 20 minute excercise, with a dash of fear.


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