I saw them in the sale section. They looked fresh and new. Hip. I want to be hip. A hip old lady. In her wide leg jeans. The shipping is free. The colour seems agreeable. I calculated if I could actually afford them and took the chance. Add to cart.
These jeans don’t fit.
Out of the packaging I knew right away. I’d read the sizing on the website three times. I looked at this “new” stubborn middle aged peri/menopause body and sized up the very tiny measurement specifications against it. Just in case.
These jeans don’t fit.
I stared at them on top of the duvet. A nice soft denim they are. The washed out blue similar to the cornflowers on my duvet. I bet they’d have looked nice with my Beatles t shirt and grey sport blazer. Very Jenna Lyons. A casual Friday office outfit. What a waste.
These jeans don’t fit.
I fold them and leave them on my bedside chair. They’ll languish there for a day or so, on top of the romance novels, Patrick Stewart bio and my library book. I sit at the edge of the bed and look down at my body. It’s not the same anymore. I didn’t agree to these changes, even as I fight against them; they’ve been thrust upon me by biology and hormones. I cry. Sob, really.
They’re just jeans.
I honestly hate returning things. I like to get it right. But, I’m also a master at making do, even if it isn’t quite what I wanted. Agreeable by nature. Perhaps I could return this peri body for the dungarees. I could still achieve a cool factor. Where’s the return label for a squishy belly.
Those jeans don’t fit.
I drop the parcel off in the postbox. Sigh lamentably. I hope craft tape holds the packaging together, it was all I had. I mutter, bye, jeans. Wonder how long before I’ll get a refund. I could use the pennies back, truth be told.
The jeans are gone.
I catch sight of myself in a window. My hair looks nice. I made this hat. I’ll always have nice eyes. They’re a little watery. Must be the wind. I’ll go in this bookstore to have a poke around. I look down at myself. It’ll be ok.
Those jeans weren’t me anyway.
K/
Gingerly 