The jeans in my drawers, all three pairs, all come from Old Navy. I have three pairs of jeans that are no longer my size set aside to give away, and they are all Old Navy jeans too. There is nothing wrong with Old Navy jeans, really–they are very inexpensive and come in an exciting variety of washes and shapes and styles and colors enough to turn your pretty head. But besides the fact that they aren’t quite right–for instance, the boot-cut pair are embarrassingly just a smidge too short, and too-short pants on a woman is one of my pet peeves–it somehow feels like Old Navy jeans are not enough.
There is premium denim out there, people. Premium! For a premium, admittedly. But in the world exists brands of luxury denim that are not only luxuriously made of hammered gold and pressed diamonds and sheets of fabric that have been woven by fairies in a land of dreams where wishes always come true and McDonald’s breakfast is served 24 hours a day, but they also have magical properties. The greatest of all qualities that premium denim has, and I have heard tell that it has many qualities, is that it makes your butt absolutely magnificent. Premium denim lifts, shapes, separates, fluffs, caresses and presents, so to speak, your glorious technicolor ass in even more glorious surround-sound.
I will say it right here, flat out to the world and in front of all my peers and loved ones: I am not ashamed to say that I would like to have a glorious ass. That’s right. I am fond of my buttocks as they are. I think they are nice buttocks. But I would like for premium denim to come into my life and take my very nice bottom by the hand and lead it all the way up to the Promised Land. I want people to sing hallelujah to my bum, to weep and cry out loud to the heavens praise the lord and pass the hand lotion, it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Premium denim, they say, can do this for me. It can also make me look gigantically tall and obnoxiously long-limbed and spectacularly thighed. In premium denim people will mistake me for Heidi Klum, be briefly embarrassed, and then want to be my friend because I am even hotter than Heidi Klum! Okay, maybe not that last part. But premium denim! It exists, and we can all agree that somehow, by dint of its premiumness and magical denim properties, it is something that you want to be investing in. And oh, it’s an investment. Not just of money, but of time, because do you know how many kinds of premium denim there are in the world? As many as the twinkling stars in the sky they came from.
And then each brand is subdivided into types and shapes and washes and waistbands and styles and colors and platonic ideals and lengths and then after you figure out the combination that best suits you, your complexion and your astrological house in which your moon rose, you have to figure out your size and in order to do that you have to know a mysterious number which is possibly your waist size but there sure is a lot of goddamn interpretation of exactly what it means to be a certain number of inches. How do you interpret a number of inches? It is a mystery of premium denim. It is what makes me say you know what? Maybe I don’t want to invest in magic denim. Maybe I am okay with my perfectly adequate butt. I was happier when I didn’t know about premium denim.
photo by digicla