Why I'm Giving Up Jeans

Updated: Aug 31, 2020

Women wearing trousers was a milestone for feminism and equal opportunity. I know the struggle because I had to fight for the option to wear trousers at school myself and that was in 2001. (We won by the way). Although my reasons were purely of comfort, it became more of a symbolic fight. But jeans, jeans were not designed for women.

Originally intended as men’s workwear during the gold rush, they were highly durable and hard-wearing. But that was until they met me.

It takes me weeks of Saturday afternoon shopping to scout out the perfect pair to fit my un-uniquely feminine shape coupled with my apparently unusual short leg length. According to my measurements I am a perfect square and as rare as good dust. It takes so many weeks, I commit to a brand until they discontinue the design. I buy multiple pairs at once. Stockpiling to avoid going through the traumatic search again. Each failure to fit examined in the changing room mirror with criticism and frustration. They may look great, but I can’t try and sit down in them. They may fit on my bum, but my legs are hanging like jumbo sausages.

Fluctuating weight changes the quality of the fit several times within the month. Any woman will know the fickle nature of jeans. Synthetic materials required for the perfect fit compromise the strength and durability. My thighs can burn through what I would consider a heavy-duty pair in as many weeks as I took to find them. I have had enough.

I am sick of paying for a product I know will only last a few months regardless of the amount of money I have spent on them.

I am sick of poor fitting styles I have to keep pulling up over my hips if I dare to bend over, try to sit down or even walk.

I am sick of sewing patch upon patch on my worn out thighs to try to hang on to a pair I have made as comfortable as my own skin. RIP "Mom jeans, September 2018-June 2019".

I am sick of tears and holes in worn out knees and buttons that just fall off under the strain of movement.

I am sick of washed out greys, gradients radiating from the knees.

I am sick of trying to fit my body into a piece of clothing designed by men, for men.

It’s time to realise that my lumps, bumps and curves deserve better.

I am giving up jeans and I have never felt more free.

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