Ode to my Low-rise Jeans

I bought a pair of Dickies jeans at Udelco, a thrift store I go to at home. They changed the way I think about my body. The jeans, black and worn and previously owned by a man, have made me embrace the parts of my body I previously hated. 

Women’s clothes are designed to compliment women’s bodies. Women’s fashion seems to highlight women’s shape. But which women? Which shapes? I am neither curvy nor thin. I don’t see my body type on the runway or when I shop online. I have the privilege of being able to find clothes that fit me in most stores I walk into, but I still don’t fit the feminine ideal for many clothing items that are designed.

My new, old jeans are too big on me. They don’t fit me at all. They were not designed for women. No high-waist into which you can tuck your tummy. No flare to emphasize an hourglass figure. No hug around the butt. Just jeans. They slide to about my hips. They bunch around my ankles. I’ve never been more comfortable in an article of clothing. 

My tummy sits just above the waistband of my jeans. The jeans have no almost-there button situation into which I force my body. There is no opportunity to try to shapeshift using clothing. I look exactly as I am.

I don’t always like the way my body looks. Not even close. But I’ve found that if I accentuate the parts of my body that I tend to not like, I am forced to love on them more. I’ve never liked the way my nose looks. After getting it pierced, I had to tend to my piercing and give it special attention; now I really like my nose. This change in attitude doesn’t mean that I always like the way my nose looks, but my general feeling about my nose is so much more positive now than it has ever been. 

The same goes for my body. My Dickies jeans highlight my tummy. I love wearing bra tops and cropped t-shirts with them. The fat on my belly becomes the star of the outfit, not something I am trying to hide. These jeans accentuate the part of my body I feel the most inclined to hate. 

Years of feeling ashamed of my body has not been undone by a single $5 thrift shop purchase. Body image issues cannot be cured by an item of clothing. I still hate the way I look sometimes; I don’t think that will ever go away. But now, I am largely able to accept my body as it is at this moment in time. 

So thank you, to the man who donated his worn out Dickies. Your jeans have changed my life.