Flashback 4 1/2 years ago. I was just getting home from a year and a half living in Guatemala, re-entering my American life, and re-connecting with American culture. Not that Guatemala bars all American stuff but my reasoning for being there had me purposely distanced. Not long after I got home I flew out to DC to visit Pammy Girl who was living there at the time. We made a little jaunt up to New York City to relax and hang out with a former friend of hers. This particular girl had endless access to daddy’s money and LOVED to shop. But not just any kind of shopping, the girl had a taste for the finer things in life. Now me personally, if I had an endless supply of money I would probably go hog wild in Target and clean them out. But again, that’s just me.
While we were there, this girl decided to clean out her closet to make room for all of Manhattan she had just bought that afternoon. Her apartment was really tiny but the clothes kept flying out of the closet. It was apparent this was a magic closet very much like the one in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe only instead of finding Narnia, you entered the magical land of Saks Fifth Avenue. What it came down to was that the clothes she was throwing out were free game. Not only were they nice, but most of them had never been worn and still had the tags attached. I poked and prodded, took things here and there mostly at the insistence of Pammy Girl because I was completely clueless to the names and labels attached to these clothes.
I came away with some really nice stuff that included two pairs of jeans. Jeans are the hardest and worst thing for me to shop for because I’m incredibly picky on the fit. But these two fit and looked good and according to Pammy Girl, were higher end because they were Diesel. Until that day I had never heard of Diesel jeans and as far as I knew diesel was reference to a large truck so one (me) would assume Diesel jeans referred to jeans truckers wore. Kind of like trucker hats. Regardless I took them.
I wore them the following months and into winter but by the next spring they went to the closet with the other cold item clothing and were forgotten until winter. Something mysterious had happened to me that summer (weight gain) and they no longer fit. Try as I might they were tight and uncomfortable. So back in the closet they went as I told myself that I would lose the weight and fit back into them someday.
Fast forward to this summer when I decided I wanted that awesome camera and needed the extra cash. I put together a pile of these fancy shmancy clothes I had been given all those years ago in New York and decided to sell them. I pulled out the jeans and tried one more time to see if they would fit. If they made a modern play of Cinderella and instead of trying on a glass slipper, one had to fit into these Diesel jeans, I would be a perfect cast for the part of the stepsister Anastasia. I tried everything to get into these pants. I jumped up and down, laid on the bed, kicked, sucked in, and squatted to see if they would stretch. No luck. I barely was able to get them on at all, was only able to zip them up half way, and forget about buttoning them. So into the for sale pile they went. Only no one wanted them so I brought them home and put them back up in my closet.
I’ve lost a little weight so curiosity got the best of me and last week I pulled them down. TA DA!!! It was a Halloween miracle! I got them on, zipped, and buttoned. Sure they were a little a tight still and slightly uncomfortable but holy hannah, good crap, they were on! My excitement lasted a few minutes and once I got control of myself, I took a serious look in the full length mirror to do the obligatory scrutinizing of the jeans. After all these years and the many debates of “should they go or stay? Go or stay??….” I came to the decision that I no longer liked them. They fit weird in the back. They weren’t as long as I thought they were. And the cut was tighter in the leg than I had remembered. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??? Seriously jeans?? That’s just rude! Disgusted, I peeled them off and threw them back in my closet where they’ll probably sit for another four years. I mean, after all… they’re Diesel.