RIP

I've ripped my jeans.

oh the humanity!!!!

First, my pocketbook is crying- I only bought these after Christmas and already they have a big whole in the inner thigh, so it's not even like I can pretend I purchased a pair of those fashionably 'pre-ripped' jeans (what is with those anyway??? seriously, people actually spend more money on jeans that are already ripped? simply confirms my belief that people are incredibly dumb).

but more importantly, I've worn these almost non-stop since I got them. they have become a part of me. the waistband that's just a tiiiinnyy bit too high that's constantly rolling down, the pen stain above the left knee from a council meeting when I got bored and tap tap tapped on my pants, not realizing that my pen wasn't capped, the denim that has had this point so conformed to my body that I'm pretty sure they could walk around ont ehir own..they will be missed.

whats more this means I'll have to endure the greatest evil of all- pants shopping. oh how I loathe it. first, I have WAY better things to spend my money on than pants. second, when you're my heigh with an ass it's insanely hard trying to find a pair that fits. either they're built for fat women and they pull and pile and sag in various bizarre places (I've noticed this- jeans of a certain size seem to assume that just because your waist and hips are a certain size, you clearly have that so unflattering term 'gunt'. it's true. well,I do NOT. a bit of a budda belly pooch, but gunt? surely not!), or they seem to think that yes, you can have long legs, but clearly they are like a baby giraffes- skinny without tone or gasp muscle.

so the whole thing is an exercise in body hatred and futility which just makes me long for dairy queen in the food court and the promise to forever wear skirts as this is CLEARLY not worth it.

what I want is magic pants- that perfet pair with just enough spandex they're stretchy and comfortable without feeling like you're wearing old lady pants, big pockets I can cram things in (I'm a reporter- I keep stuff in my back pockets. a lot.), the perfect just-under-the-navel rise that doesn't create muffin top or rolls or require things to be shaved, the length that just covers my arch, giving me perfect shoe-to-pant without showing off my crappy socks or dragging int he dirt, all in a perfect medium dark wash- classy and yet not black.

ok pants knomes, where are you?