Every day for the last 3 years, you’ve loyally clung to me like a starfish to the reef, but I think you’ve saturated the marketplace and my pants shelf for long enough. For those of us with a tiny frame but a soft, cellulite spot for cookies and wine, we need to draw eyes away from our mid-sections and down to our stems and derrières. My dear, thigh-clenching, ankle-revealing, Skinny Jeans- you’ve been a steadfast compatriot in that effort. But, like a small town girl who hasn’t ever left home, it’s now time for my legs to have a little more breathing room.
I’ll reminisce fondly on days with boat-necks and ballet slippers, pretending to be Audrey Hepburn, but I will make new memories. Ones that involve shaved legs and things in my pockets.
It’s true that my break from riding boots turned into a full-fledged affair with ankle booties, but that won’t happen to us. No way.