Splittin' the Seams

I am a what's comfortable and functional kind of shopper.  I detest shopping for jeans; not as much as bras or swimming suits, but it definitely ranks right up there with waxing, doing dishes, and talking to my mother-in-law.  But, much to my dismay, I do occasionally have to buy them.  Don't get me wrong; I am definitely a jeans, sweatshirt or t-shirt kind of girl, but the trying on process makes me... how shall I put this?  Uh, well, just bitchy.  I prefer to do my shopping at stores that sell clothing, tack, dog food, footwear, feed, and beer (one- stop shop) so the selection tends to run toward functional. Until lately...

Recently, I was in my favorite store, and a bedazzled pair of ripped out jeans caught my eye.  I thought, "What on God's green earth possesses a woman to want to draw attention to her ass with goth crosses and sparklies?"  Maybe they were comfortable, so I thought before I get too judgmental, perhaps there was something to these jeans that seem to grace the hind parts of just about every girl and woman these days.  Most didn't look terrible, and maybe, just maybe, my ass would look fabulous in these.  So, I grabbed a pair to try on, all the while my stomach turning at the sight of the price tag.  I moseyed around the store a bit more, perusing boots, halters, & dishware, and finally made it to the dressing room.  Shinnying out of my boots and jeans, I pulled on the pants.  Well, I tried to pull on the pants.  What the hell?  Now, I know that fat tends to rearrange itself from time to time, and I did eat ice cream the night before, drank 3 beers, and had sour cream on my potato, but I refused to blame my gluttony on the fact the pants were snug. I had the right size, right?  Tug. Pull. Squat. Thrust. Tug. Wow, who knew it could be such a workout trying on jeans?  Damn things better look hot!  Upon reaching for the button and zipper, (it was there somewhere) it came to mind that not only was my crack hanging out the backside, I might also need to wax the front in order to wear these babies. Really? A 2 inch, no, make that 1 1/2 inch zipper, is supposed to cover the nether region? I think not!  Not only were they "short waisted", the thighs were tight, you could see every dimple, dip, and crevice, and what the heck was that junk hanging out over the top?  I don't think "muffin top" would qualify!  Oh no!  In fact, the idea of removing these pants quickly brought to mind opening a can of Pillsbury buttermilk biscuits. You know, the "PPPAAA" sound you get when you beat the tube against the counter?  Yeah.  It wasn't going to be pretty.  Well, I couldn't get out of them fast enough! I was reminded this is exactly the reason why I don't like shopping for jeans, and to stick with what works!  I might not be in fashion, but I don't think my horse really cares!