Mel Gibson’s massive, public death spiral is depressing. Discovering that all that Dawn dish detergent that so photogenically cleans oil-drenched wildlife doesn’t prolong their lives is really depressing. But do you know what is super depressing? Giving a pair of adorable designer jeans away to a friend because they don’t fit you… and when she shows up wearing them you realize she looks better in them than you ever did, even at your thinnest. Oh yes, I just put my jeans drama ahead of Mel Gibson and the BP oil spill on the importance scale. (What? They capped the well didn’t they? And don’t say you aren’t entertained by ol’ ‘Sugar Tits’ Gibson’s antics.)
There’s a reason I favor the retro look: Like many women of yore, I have a (relatively) tiny waist and fuller hips and thighs. My body likes to store its fat reserves in the areas that are not the current trend. (Missed the memo? You’re allowed fat in your boobs, your face and teensy bit in your backside. You may have the left pinkie finger on odd Tuesdays if you’ve been especially good this year.) And there’s nothing wrong with all that pear-shaped awesomeness… until I try and buy jeans.
Any pair I buy must pass the thigh test. As in, I have to be able to get them over my thighs. The upside is that I never, ever have to worry about jeans being too tight on the waist. Too small pants never reach my waist, thanks to my twin bodyguards below. The downside, well, is that my jeans are always painted-on tight on my thighs and then they gap at my waist. This trend of no belt and pulling your shirt down over the top of your pants? Totally doesn’t work for me. Crack city ain’t pretty.
I don’t own a single pair of jeans I can wear without a belt.
Don’t misunderstand – I’m not trying to bodysnark on myself. My “athletic” thighs have run me through many miles, carried me up countless mountains and even, so says the research, made my babies smarter. I’m just trying to explain why I wanted to weep after seeing a friend of mine wearing a pair of supercute jeans I’d given her because I was tired of losing the tug-of-war to gravity every day. Not only were said jeans cuter on her than they ever were on me (even pre-baby) but they were actually loose on her legs. For the love of little green apples, I don’t even know what it feels like to have loose fabric on my legs unless I’m wearing a skirt. I don’t know what they looked like on her waist – I resisted the urge to rush her and yank up her shirt – but I do know that we carry our weight in completely opposite ways (weighs?). And sadly, 99% of jeans these days are cut for women of her proportions rather than mine.
So I was beyond excited to see that Levi’s has not only come out with a line of denim that has the same styles with 3 different fits but they based it off of actual research! (And no, Levis is not paying me to write this. Nor have they given me a free pair of jeans to try out. I’m pretty sure they don’t even know I exist. Um, call me Levis – ok??) Levis studied 60,000 full-body scans of women around the world to come up with their new fits.
“Jeans that fit right are like the Holy Grail for women,” Mary Alderete, Levi’s VP/global marketing, tells Marketing Daily. “We analyzed women’s bodies around the world, and did 60,000 body scans, and found that 80% of all women fall into three different body types.” Once Levi’s identified the types — Slight Curve, Demi Curve, and Bold Curve — “we took these pants on ‘fit safaris’ around the world to test them out.”
The three fits are based on the ratio of your waist to your butt. (Dear Levis, thank you for not calling them “small,” “medium,” and “large”):
It’s about freaking time. While brands like Apple Bottom and Skinny in the Middle have tried to reach this niche market, they are often expensive and found only on the Internet (precluding the funfunfun of trying them on first.) The only problem I foresee with the Levis is that all those models with the cute behinds up there have skiiiiinnny little legs. My issue isn’t my butt so much as my thighs. But I’m hoping that they took that into account and just didn’t advertise it that way because thighs make people think of chicken and the current tagline of “All a$$es are not created equal” wouldn’t be nearly as sassy.
So what kind of butt do you have? Do you have a “slight” bump or a mound that would make Sir Mix-a-Lot think up a new rhyme for anaconda? What’s your solution to ill-fitting denim? Anyone else ever give clothes away to a friend only to discover they look 100 times better in them? And lastly, where would you wear these??