Blue Jeans Blues

I never thought this day would come
In fact, I’m still in awe
As recently as a month ago
I’d have scoffed and said, ‘Pshaw’

Who me? Why, never! That’s not my style
You would not catch me dead
And yet, I’m here and breathing
Though my face is bright, beet red

Those things are awful, icky, yuck
Sans chic, to say the least
They’re hideous, gruesome, dowdy, too
Not for Beauty, they’re for the Beast

Until last night, while at the mall
The pickings had gotten slim
An hour before closing time
The lights began to dim

I countered every fashion rule
Each lesson I’d been told
I resisted, cried and pouted
but the truth is, now…I’m old

No longer can I fake it
Wiggle in where it just won’t fit
The harried salesgirl at Bloomingdale’s
Was having none of it

At 8:45 she’d had enough
‘Ma’am, I’m afraid these just don’t work’
I’d been trying close to an hour now
And behaving like a jerk

AG, Seven, and J Brand
My go-tos ’til of late
Were suspiciously tight, low-slung, obscene
Had I met my ultimate fate?

And then she spoke the words that cut
So cruel, so harsh, so mean
‘Here’s NYDJ- try this pair on,
They’re Not Your Daughter’s Jeans’

Noooo, I cried, not that, not those
Anything but these
With time of the essence I had to give in
She slipped me the dungarees

Ugh, they’re awful… pas pour moi
They’re for another gal
‘Please try,’ she said impatiently
Not wanting to miss a sale

Not me, not I, no way, I sniffed
I’ll resist until I’m eighty
But alas, I feared, the other jeans
Were for someone, ahem, less weighty

‘Madame, we’ll be closing soon
Could you move a little faster?’
Plugging my nose, I tried them on
Expecting a disaster

Huh… How strange, no tug, no yank
These things pull up in a jiff
Unlike the ones from the junior side
All low slung, tight and stiff

I stole a glance and took a peek
In the mirror, one eye, then the other
Lo and behold, they looked okay
More forgiving than Frame or Mother

Good grief! They really aren’t half bad
They fit! Oh, happy day!
I’ll take them, I cried, in disbelief
I’ll take two, if that’s okay

Now, after this saga of denim success
There’s only relief, not one ounce of stress
Good fit is in vogue no matter your age
Take it from me, this born-again sage

Do keep in mind there’s just one thing to glean
This tale tells only of well-fitting jeans
Understand that this story is not about shoes
I’m still holding tight to my Jimmy Choos