But I really hate jeans.

Whenever Justine posts about me, I feel like it’s really necessary to add more content. Even if most of what I’m going to say revolves around my hatred for jeans.

I hate jeans.

This is different from the cliché that people “hate pants.” No one hates all pants, it’s impossible. If that’s how you feel, you obviously  haven’t tried enormous sweatpants or christmas pajama shorts. I promise your mind will change about pants. But I, actually do hate jeans.

I’m still trying to decide if this is because I worked for 2 years at a restaurant where I wore jeans. And that in that 2 years, I think I had 3 pairs rip at the crotch due to those awesome 12+ hour shifts on Fridays and Saturdays.

On the other hand, I hate jeans because they don’t fit me. I can refer to a story from junior high when my dad asked me why I had to buy a bikini. I’m pretty sure I yelled at him and said, “If you wore a medium on top and an extra-large on the bottom, you’d have to buy a bikini too!” I’m not sure why, but I’ve always seemed to blame him for this disproportionate ratio.

But I’m really not just blaming my genes. (You like that – genes and jeans) You know, in your closet you always have a shirt that will fit. Whether you just ate a cake or just got over the flu, you have a shirt to wear. That is not the same for jeans. It’s as if your jeans decide every day not to fit you in some fashion. Blah.

I’m only harping on this because the office I work in right now is very casual so I’m stuck. It’s not casual enough to wear my giant sweatpants, which is unfortunate because I’m most efficient and creative in those, and it’s not fancy enough for dresses and dress pants. So I’m stuck rotating the two pairs of jeans that I will wear, until they rip in half. I mean, I could go jean shopping, but that is never really a fun day.