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30 January 2010 @ 02:08 pm
We're going to the World's Toughest Rodeo tonight. This necessitated a trip to the western store, since Himself had no western jeans to wear. While we were there, I thought, what the hell, and grabbed a pair of Wrangler cowboy cut jeans for myself. Off to the dressing room, I went, skinned off my size 6 Vanderbilts and went "bzuh?"

11's were snug, 13's too big.

Made him try on his jeans, and he went up a size. I declined. Stopped at Walmart on the way home, in the middle of my complete freak out. Levis. 8 longs. Meltdown successfully averted.

I am the shallowest of people.
dd-bdd_b on January 30th, 2010 11:43 pm (UTC)
I promise you, promise you, promise you that the size number printed on any given pair of jeans is not visible to other people, and makes no change whatsoever to how you look. Which was pretty darned good, last I saw you.
beadslutbeadslut on January 31st, 2010 01:17 pm (UTC)
It wasn't so much the number, but the three sizes in between that I missed being aware of somehow.

Thank you :-)