Denim Diary

When it comes to trying on jeans, the one place where most women don’t want to do it is in public. But, when I was promised to save a lot of money on designer labels, I succumbed like the rest of the lemmings, followed the long line into the Los Angeles Convention Center, and hoped for the best.

In any event, while the dj’s club style music made the atmosphere outside the dressing room a little more party like, as soon as I tripped under the heavy blue, velvet curtain, into the large room full of mirrors and half-naked women, the dj’s needle seemed to skid across the vinyl, and the party in my head turned my reality into practically every woman’s nightmare—shedding your clothes and inhibitions in a large open room full of strangers.

See the problem with open dressing rooms is that you have to find your space, close to a mirror, and one that doesn’t encroach on another’s territory. For instance, when I finally found my small, sacred spot, another woman thought it would be cozy to share. No, this is not a space I want to share with a half-naked stranger while she attempts to squeeze herself into a pair of jeans by jumping, bending, and squatting in my face.

So, rather than evicting my new neighbor, I gathered my ten pair of jeans, politely vacated the premises, walked across the room, and found prime real estate! It was along the sturdy wall, next to a mirror, and had a rack to hang my unwanted jeans—it honestly couldn’t get better than this! I mean unlike the other wall, this one was stable so I imagined stragecially leaning upright rather than bending over revealing what underwear I selectively chose for the event.

As I secretly laughed to myself at the poor souls who were forced to get naked in the middle of the room, it occurred to me that for that moment in time, we were all searching for the same thing at the same time. We were looking for that piece of clothing that would nip, tuck, hide, squeeze, and ultimately show our best side to those people on the other side of the blue, velvet curtain.

It didn’t matter if the red head was a size 10 and she apparently needed a 12, or that the cute blonde had an amazing figure but more cellulite than yours truly, or even that the woman next to me shared that I wasn’t the only woman with an "ample" backside ... what mattered was that we showed up, en masse, for a common goal.

But, as I stood there daydreaming about our unspoken camaraderie, my dressing room bliss quickly decayed as yet another squatter entered my domain. However this time, since I was standing there with my pants around my ankles, I decided to make a stance and surprisingly, she didn’t leave! Did she feel comfortable invading my space because we had similar body proportions? Perhaps she saw me using the wall as a leaning mechanism and it appealed to her lack of balance? Whatever the case, it’s fair to say that if the dressing room police were on the premises, she would have received a ticket for invading personal space while not wearing appropriate undergarments!

One pair after another hit the floor and I became increasingly enraged that I couldn’t get a pair of jeans over my knees! Meanwhile, in my embarrassment, and to save face, I found it necessary to say out loud that the sizes must have been incorrectly marked or that someone must have taken my jeans off the rack and left me theirs. No matter the excuse, I witnessed eyes rolling and heads shaking … what happened to the sisterhood?! I was there for them as they did everything but grease their thighs with Crisco to get their jeans to “fit”, I cheered them on from the sidelines as they sometimes fell to the floor as if they were making a touchdown! What happened to the sisterhood when I needed a little support?

Either way, after two hours of searching for and trying on jeans, I didn’t know if I had it in me to repeat the process. It’s not like washing your hair where if you skip the repeat, your hair is still clean--I still didn’t have any jeans! But then I began to think that in such a short time, it was I who conquered prime real estate, created a sisterhood, and realized my tucas was bigger than I thought and still got half-naked in front of strangers! Therefore, it would be I who would go one more round and find the jeans of my dreams!!