It was too easy last time.
I posted months ago about my experience buying a new pair of jeans at Old Navy – it was a near-miraculous, in-and-out shopping trip wherein I purchased a new pair of jeans with the same ease usually associated with brushing my teeth. Those jeans still hang in my closet, but they’ve started to hang a little too loosely on me. I pulled out some older jeans to wear, but the ones that fit the best have been worn a little thin:
I know that ripped jeans are all the rage with the kids nowadays, but this denim was giving up the ghost, quickly. My go-to jeans were going pieces, so I had it in mind to stop by Old Navy to pick up a new pair, just like last time. Easy-peasy…
Ha, ha, ha. Well, two weeks and three trips to ON later, I was still wearing my old thinning denim. Alas, I decided I was going to have to step up the search and go to – THE MALL.
I try to avoid the mall nowadays, as walking down the wide promenade between stores has become too much like an open-air market in the third world, with aggressive sellers hawking anything and everything from their booths:
‘Ma’am, would you like a sample of our product?’
‘Ma’am, have you tried stepping into our scanner?’
‘How about a 10-minute massage?’
‘Would you be interested in taking a survey today?’
Hand to god, those are actual quotes from sellers who called to me as I attempted to sprint between storefronts in search of a pair of jeans with the correct rise, cut, waist, color and length for my frame.
I ducked into Ann Taylor, where I discovered that this season the designers have seen fit to make their jeans with builder-grade sandpaper, rather than cotton. No thanks. The Gap? A very friendly salesperson helped me try on four pairs, all with more Lycra in them than my sports bras. Pass.
I was enticed to enter Abercrombie and Fitch by a sale sign – 50% off on all jeans. Big mistake. The thumping music, the dim-as-a-nightclub lighting, the trademarked scented air, the fact that the ONLY jeans for sale in that store were Skinny cut – all pointed to the fact that I was a decade past that place’s demographic. I beat a hasty retreat, and considered pulling up a chair in the mall atrium and taking a nap after complaining about young people and noise to anyone who would listen. I fought the urge and stepped into the Loft, where age-appropriate styles and soothing quasi-European background music helped me regain my equilibrium.
After a few more stops, I did end up purchasing a pair of jeans. Are they the perfect pair? Not really. The perfect pair would have the length of Ann Taylor’s pants, the waist from New York & Co., the fade from American Eagle and the price point from Old Navy. But I found a good enough pair that will cover my hide until a new pair is needed.
Just in time, too. My old favorites were worn so thin that a whole new crop of holes were appearing with each wearing. I don’t think they would have survived another sprint past the hand cream lady outside the Gap.