Time tests all things, makes steady work of wearing out these old duds, till they fall off and run like sand along the length of your hourglass, or come back into fashion, following along worn grooves and ever turning cycles deepening down each mark.
I am aware that I’m short. Apparently I’m dead on five foot, but I was told this by a rather drunk, self-proclaimed witch shortly before he ended up paralytic on the floor and this might suggest that is less than accurate. It is a number that seems close enough though and I’m going to stick with that when people ask how tall I am, since any other answer would first require me to spend the time measuring myself.
Have you ever tried to measure yourself? It is always far more hassle then I care to put myself through.
But back to the original point of this post; which is actually nothing to do with jeans but a feeling of guilt that I have not posted properly in a while and I am actually quite proud of my older, not-so-fiction-based posts that are hidden somewhere in the archives of this blog. (Check them out if you have time. I think they’re rather good and I tend to be my harshest critic. I could also be wrong; but we won’t mention that.) Anyway. My older not-so-fiction-based posts are the only journal I really keep anymore. Paper based ones tend to be scribbled in a couple of times and then sit dormant on a bookshelf until I go back and throw away the overly emotional drivel of thirteen-year-old me.
There is a reason why I don’t like my older poetry. It sucks.
However! I’ve found that writing up about what goes on in my little life here, tends to produce much more cohesive and engaging pieces of writing than any of my journals ever did. I tend to write in a stream of consciousness, I don’t proof-read that much and I spend the next twenty minutes staring at the notifications tab hoping that someone will leave a comment and validate my eccentricity.
Blogging and writing in general requires a certain level of egotism. You lot are getting to see our life’s work in a way; if we’re not going to be pompous about it then why do we bother trying to show our work to the masses in the first place?
This brings me perfectly into why a stream of consciousness can be a problem with these posts. Well less of a problem and more of a confusion since I tend to wander off down numerous tangents before I get to my point. I mean really! I haven’t even mentioned why me being short is relevant to this post yet.
Why is it relevant?
It is relevant because last Thursday I went shopping for boot-cut jeans.
Firstly, nowhere really wants to sell you boot-cut jeans, they all want to see you skinny jeans instead. I have plenty of skinny jeans at home. On Thursday I wanted boot-cut.
Two places had a good selection. The Gap shop in Chester had a really good range and the costumer service was absolutely fantastic! Within moments of me turning to the display rail looking completely bemused as to what I was actually meant to do next, and which pair I wanted, there was a shop assistant there and waiting. Incredibly friendly and ready to help. It was just a shame that all the jeans were a little too long in the leg to actually fit me.
See that is the problem. Around the bum, hips and thighs, the jeans would fit and look dam good. I’m nicely proportioned. I feel comfortable in my body. However, the jeans puddled on the ground at my feet.
As a student I find myself walking around campus and the town a lot. Even if I wore a fairly tall pair of heels, which I tend to do normally, my trousers would still drag and the bottoms would no doubt get soaked on damp days.
There was only one place that I found where the jeans fit me perfectly.
The Next petite range was a fantastic fit. Size sixes, and a reasonable leg length. I found that in some other shops even the petite lengths were as long as the regulars, making shopping rather frustrating. It was a shame that the petite range in Next wasn’t bigger. For a fair sized store the range was rather limited.
I don’t think that my size is that unusual. I’ve met loads of people who are a similar height and build, who find the same issues when shopping for clothes.
I’m definitely short, but I’m not that short.
So what was your worst shopping experience? Do you end up traipsing sing from shop to shop just to find what you want? Or do you throw in the towel and risk the uncertainty of online purchases?
You can leave your responses in the comments below! Go one! Have a good moan.