Alright, so yes I am realizing that I may have an obsession with jeans. I don't think by any means that I am the only woman to have this quirk, oh no, not by a long shot. I've seen magazine pictorials of the closets of Hollywood starlets, oh yes I have, and their closets have nothing but jeans and shoes. JEANS, rows and rows of JEANS. I am not alone.

Jeans are the ultimate test garments in a woman's life -- even more so than wedding gowns or swimsuits. With the wedding gown, you try on about 50 of them then give up and pick one that makes you feel the most princess-like, even if you, LIKE ME, really looked like someone threw up a projectile mess of Belgian lace all over you. The trying on and buying of the swimsuit is like attending a funeral. You must go and pay your respects to the 3-way mirror, but in the end you must bury your dear friend, your TOTAL SELF-ESTEEM. You invest in a decent cover-up garment and scurry with it and the swimsuit out of the department store in grief.

But jeans, you have a relatively decent chance of getting a pair that makes you look BETTER THAN YOU DO. This takes great determination and effort, but it can be done. I have been on this quest since puberty, and I think I have a pretty good idea of what works and what doesn't. I have spent many years in jeans, admittedly bought styles that were in fashion that were deeply unflattering. I know better now. Or I think I do. Maybe in another 10 years I will decide that everything I wore looked horrible and just go for the burka. But for now, I am still all about the jeans.

Not for me: the high-waisted jean. For one, I am not terribly tall at 5'4", and am short-waisted to begin with. The high-waisted jean pretty much hits me at the ribs and plooches out my stomach. Lovely. Not for me: the tapered-leg jean. This style highlights saddlebags almost magically. Actually, they flatter no one. Ditch yours today. Not for me: the jeans that are so long, no heel high enough can be worn to make them work. I am right on the cusp of buying average or petite clothes. Some petite jeans are too short, some average are too long. I will generally go for the too-long, only to get home and realize that no matter what I do they are still too long and look silly. I am also too lazy to hem them. Sewing LOL.

After the jeans win of yesterday, I went to my closet. There, folded neatly, was the last pair of SAVED JEANS -- a well-worn pair of faded Guess jeans that I haven't even bothered to try on in many, many years. I kept them because they were cool and kind of unique, and had a nice memory associated with them. About a year after I had my first baby, a hard year with all that adjustment, physical and mental and logistical and such, I put him in his awesome leopard-print-and-black Combi stroller and went in search of pants that were not elastic waist. As I searched the racks of jeans, Baby Boy stretched out his chubby fingers to grab the pants and happily attempted to eat a pair or two. I found the Guess pair, eyed them up, checked the Euro sizing, and wheeled us into the fitting room. As Baby Boy watched with his giant blue orbs and squirmed in his seat, I tried the jeans on. They fit beautifully, and I actually put my fist in the air and said YES! They were $54.00, and worth three times that to me.

Today, I put them on again, almost 16 years later.

They fit, but differently. My body has changed, even though I weigh less than I did on the day I bought them. My stomach is poofier, hips more rounded, butt flatter via the years and two more pants-chewing babies that arrived. I look at myself in the mirror. They are tapered-leg. Shit! I smile, take them off, re-fold them, and put them on a pile of clothes to go to Goodwill. They aren't magic anymore, and it is time to let them go. Bye bye, Guess jeans, I will always remember you fondly.

I pull on the jeans I bought yesterday, and go downstairs to start the laundry.