I swore I wouldn’t do it. I was firm in my resolve. For a while. And then I started to wonder…what if I just tried it? It couldn’t hurt, right? Just to try?
But I resisted temptation. I held strong to my decision. For a while. My closest friends were doing it, but they loved me even though I didn’t.
Then I got a new job. I was surrounded. Everyone was doing it. I tried to be stronger than the peer pressure.
This weekend, I caved. I threw caution to the wind and dove headfirst off the cliff after all the other loveable lemmings.
The skinny-jean-wearing lemmings.
I officially own my first pair of skinny jeans. And probably my last, since I’m not sure I’ll ever have the guts to wear them out of my house. I’m not a skinny jean kind of girl. I have monstrous thighs. My ankles are not small. I am not nor will I ever be petite. I have a large and oddly shaped arse. My hips are roughly ginormous. Come to think of it, this was probably a really bad plan. What was I thinking?? I don’t even really like rodents!
Maybe I’ll climb back up the cliff and return the damn pants.
Maybe I retract my lemming pledge.
I want out! I wasn’t meant to be a cool kid! I’ve never been a cool kid…I want to retreat to my corner. It’s quirky, dark and comfortable there. I like my corner. It has funny tshirts and normal jeans. It has unicorns and Yoshi and more cowbell.
I’m retreating. Take the pants. Just take ‘em. I’m outta here.
And please…don’t send the sniper squirrel after me. I was lying about not liking rodents. Well, except rats. They’re gross. But I like most of the others! I swear! No, please, not the sniper squirrel!!
Disclaimer: I am not trying to insult anyone who does wear skinny jeans. Well, maybe if you’re wearing them in true emo fashion…then I’ll make fun of you…fair’s fair…but normal, trendy skinny jeans wearers are cool with me. Don’t be sensitive. I’m making a hyperbolic analogy. Go with it. Hyperbole is the spice of life. Well, maybe not THE spice of life, but definitely one of them. Whatever. I’m just saying, if you’re sensitive about your pants, that’s your issue. Not mine. I’ve got enough of my own to deal with. Sensitive pants notwithstanding.