the fickleness of fit

when it comes to looking fantastic, fit is king. possibly even one of those golden-age god-emperors. I learned this the other day when I put together what I thought was a pretty passable outfit. which it was. mostly. the problem was, my friend pointed out, the jeans. I love the cut of the jeans so I wear them a lot. but cut and fit are not the same (and that’s not even getting into the whole optical illusion created by the color of the wash, which I’ll get back to later).

the cut was fine. low waist. narrow through the hip and thigh. slight flare. but the fit did me no favors at all. the waist was too big and rode lower even then it should have, which to be honest, was already pretty low, especially for a corporate office. and then there were the thighs…

now, thighs are one of my admitted challenge spots. I like to blame the years of adolescent gymnastics, because even when I was thin as a rail, I had trouble finding pants that had enough breathing room in that area, especially if the waist fit. (this is one of the key reasons I prefer a little stretch in my jeans.)

so long story short, the waist was saggy, the pockets buckled and the thighs were like sausage casings (if sausage casings were made out of a pale blue tourniquet). now the jimmy dean effect is something that I’m going to have to work out with the gym, but the waistband is a whole ‘nother thing.

the suggestion of my fashion-savvy friend was to pop over to a tailor for a little nip/tuck. which if my weight didn’t fluctuate like a yo-yo I might actually consider. but today’s fit, would likely be tomorrow’s ill-fit, so what’s a girl to do?

1. stabilize the weight already. pick a number. go there. stay there. it will definitely take some time, but it’s a good goal to have.

2. always, always, always, buy pants with a little stretch. no matter how good the deal (and these jeans were a shockingly good deal — $2 at my local goodwill) if it doesn’t fit, there’s no way you’ll look fab, so it’s not worth the price.