Wearing jeans for the first time after Thanksgiving is an important milestone. When you wear denim again, you’re staking your claim as a fastened pants person. After the third day of eating stuffing leftovers and wearing the elastic band of denial, I knew I was it was time to take action.
The thought of pulling and zipping may seem overwhelming when the heaviest thing you’ve lifted lately is a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes, but you can do this. It isn’t easy leaving leggings, athleisure, and sweatpants behind, but if I was able to survive eight hours in my most forgiving pair of four-way stretch jeans, you can do it, too. I have faith that your best constricting slacks years are still ahead of you. To help prepare you, this is what I experienced the first day of my denim comeback.
7:10 a.m.: It’s now or never. I’ve done this thousands, maybe millions, of times. I’m at the knees. This is where it gets tricky. I think a deep breath and an aggressive thigh shimmy should get the job done. PULL! JUMP! BUTTON! I’m in.
9:03 a.m.: I should’ve known that was too easy. My fly has been open since I left the house. Now that it’s zipped, I can’t bend more than 45 degrees. This is more than a muffin top. I am a mushroom made of denim and flesh.
10:37 a.m.: I’m uncomfortable, and I feel uneasy. My body aches, and I’m experiencing shortness of breath. According to WebMD, my body might be rejecting the foreign denim. I should’ve known that going from cotton and lycra spandex to denim would be too overwhelming.
1:20 p.m.: I’m in a denim prison of my own making. I can’t breathe, can’t eat. I feel every seam and every stitch burrowing into my stuffing-puffed skin. This is how a foot must feel in a compression sock.
3:11 p.m.: I’ve been in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, but it’s not what you think: I’m just taking a little pants break. I’m not sure which would be worse: lying about diarrhea or admitting that I need to sit with my pants undone for a little while.
4:09 p.m.: I guess I just thought the jeans would be a little more understanding, you know? We’ve spent so much time together. Cute times, casual times. Good butt days and bad butt days.
4:28 p.m.: Did I mention that the ink tag was in a really inconvenient spot when I bought these jeans? I had to be extra careful when I tried them on in the fitting room. I went through all that effort, and this is how they repay me.
4:35 p.m.: I just think it’s funny how I’m buying fabric softener and the more expensive Tide with Febreze, and for what? So a pair of entitled jeans can swallow me alive like a Venus flytrap?
5:42 p.m.: FREEDOM! I can bend my legs again! Look! They cross! Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll have a little rest. I’ve been wearing those jeans all day, and I’m exhausted.
1:14 a.m. [while asleep]: An angry pair of dark wash Levi 501’s menacingly slithers after me as I run through the woods holding a whole turkey under my arm like a football player running for a touchdown.