I'm a bootleg girl in a skinny jean world

I am going to preface this post, blaming my friends Kylie and Cheng and probably I'll throw Polly in there too, just for good measure.

We have been talking in recent times about ... THE SKINNY JEAN.

Go on have a go I hear them say, yes I got a pair, I got two, you have to try them, they're all the rage.

So try them I did yesterday.  I thought if this whole coloured skinny jean rage is just a passing fad I'll just get some el cheapos from Target.  So I grabbed a couple and headed for the change room.

I swear I nearly knocked myself out.  I had one leg in and trying to get the other leg in, I was hopping about in the change room making all sorts of grunting sounds, heavens forbid, and lost my footing.  Thank God I didn't bang into the door and end up in the corridor with the jeans around my ankles.  Instead I nearly cracked my head on the other wall of the change room.  I can't imagine the poor lady in charge of the change rooms wondering what the hell was going on in my little cubicle.

So Kylie and Cheng and Polly, end result ... I fitted into the size 14 skinny jeans, they were even perhaps bordering on a bit loose around my tummy, but OH FOR FLIP'S SAKE my legs looked like badly made pork sausages in them.  Probably doesn't help that I'm not the tallest person in the world, but they are not very forgiving and you do see every lump and bump!  Not for me.

I've come to realise I'm a boot leg girl in a skinny jean world.