I’m a Hipster Now

I just acquired my first pair of skinny jeans.

As a runner who was blessed with mighty leg muscles from ankle to hip I have never been fond of tight legged pants. It was a long grieving process before I came to terms with the fact that I would simply never have skinny legs or beautiful knees no matter how many times I passed on dessert. So the past few years of leggings and skinny jeans paired with baggy formless tops have been especially cruel for those of us with slim torsos atop mighty Clydesdale legs.

Yes: let me please showcase my bulging quads and knees and calves in leggings meant to be worn by a dieting sandhill crane.

Oh the humanity!

I swore that I would never buy skinny jeans.

Oh the hypocrisy!

Right? I mean how else would I become the proud owner of skinny jeans unless I broke down and bought a pair?

My story begins with breakfast- the most important meal of the day. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and then realized that we had no milk in the house. There is a dollar store at the end of the block so I thought I might as well walk myself over there and buy a gallon of milk. This took longer than was strictly necessary due to a plethora of shoppers and a paucity of check out clerks.

By the time I got home I had been out in the fresh air long enough for the smell of the kitchen garbage to hit me in the face when I walked in the door. I resolved to take out the trash then and there. Then and there, draped over the side of the dumpster behind my apartment complex were two pairs of jeans.

I laughed to myself that I would even consider pulling clothing out of the trash but that didn’t stop me from checking the sizes. After all, jeans are jeans even if they are hanging on the side of the dumpster. I could tell they were juniors because the sizes were odd numbers 11 and 13. My sizes back in the days when I wore junior sizes. I didn’t suppose they would fit me now but I thought there wasn’t any harm in trying them on.

So I did. And they fit.

So now they are mine. As a friend pointed out they are now extra hipster for having been acquired through alternative means. They still need a good wash, though before I gird my loins with them. Hipster they may be, but I draw the line at dirty hipster. Which is apparently a mixed drink: A Dirty Hipster made by The Standard hotel  (Maybe other places too but I had it at The Standard. It was delicious.)

~ by Gwydhar Gebien on March 28, 2013.

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