"Santa", I said to myself, "This year, I would really, really like some nice jeans. Perhaps some jeans that I don't have to order sight unseen off eBay. Perhaps some jeans that don't have tattered hems and are just a teensy bit too short. Perhaps some jeans like this:
With this uncharacteristic, non cheap thought dancing in my head, I went out Christmas shopping with my mom. After a successful trip to Big Lots (Have you been to Big Lots? Oh how I love a great trip to Big Lots!) we popped over to the American Cancer Society Discovery Shop. The Discovery Shop is a great little thrift store that always has a good deal or two (plus it's staffed by incredibly cute and helpful volunteers who you just want to make your Grandma). With the thought of nice jeans still with me, I walked over to the "finer things" rack. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but five pairs of designer jeans in my (almost) size!
This is about the point in any good story where we get to the antagonist, the villain if you will. We will call her Skinny Butt Mother* (or SBM for short). When I hold a particular pair of pants up and ask if they look like they will fit me, SBM says, "They look like they will fit ME!" She promplty takes all five pairs to the dressing room, from whence she declares, "They all fit!".
Then I enter, try on the jeans, (which fit ok, but will fit great very soon, damnit). I ask SBM if one pair looks ok, and she says "They look a little tight across the middle of your butt". (What are mothers for, if not complete honesty?) In the end, I ended up with two pairs, and she ended up with two pairs, and we were both happy. She even offered to keep the pants I bought until they fit me better. Isn't she the best?
So what did I get, you may be wondering. Well here ya go:
(Yes, that is my carpet. Isn't it awesome? Mint green is coming back into style someday, and when that day comes, won't we be trendy.)
And my best find of the year, the coupe de grace of cheapness...
$18 for hardly worn designer jeans that would cost $198 new? I'm a happy girl.
*You may ask...how can I say such things about my mother? Well, I'm pretty darn sure she can't figure out how to comment on my blog, so I feel secure. Yes mom, that's a challenge. Love ya!