For the longest time it’s been very unclear to my why Skinny Jeans are a thing. In fact, I devoted an entire blog post to my musing on the fact that Skinny Jeans do justice to no one and thus are a vast criminal empire where justice doesn’t even exist. But finally, the day has at long last come where I’ve realized the benefits of the skinniest of jean.
The only real reason for their existence is: Shoes.
It finally dawned on me recently as I’ve been in a shoe buying mode. I’ve never really been a “shoe” girl per se, but recently I’ve started indulging a bit more in cute footwear.
Once I had said adorable shoes in my possession, I tried them on with my trusty and go-to standard the “boot cut” jeans/pants. I soon noticed and became quite glum about the fact that my feet under said pants were virtually invisible. How was I to show off the cute shoes I was wearing when they’re essentially hidden from view?
And we all know how important “showing off” is in this day and age. How could I conceivably post a photo to Facebook or Instagram of my cute shoes if they were hidden beneath pants? How could I garner compliments on my fine taste in footwear at work when no one would witness the cuteness of the shoe? How could I show the world that I’m actually a fashionista without the proof in the stepped in pudding?
I soon thought it through and realized that the entire term “boot cut” implies that it’s made to fit OVER a boot. It accommodates said boot underneath, I.E. hidden from view. Therefore the only part of the boot that shows is the tip of the toe and perhaps a scandalizing glimpse of the heel from time to time.
When I happened to wear my new shoes with a dress, my feet were suddenly and amazingly on display. Whoa, I had sticks (trunks?) and I had feet inside actual shoes and not just uniform tubes that ended in a bell shape without feet (a la gumby). Where before I was gliding across the floor seemingly without shoes or feet in my bootcuts (as if I’m actually that graceful. Trust me, it’s obvious I have lumbering feet), now I had actual real life feet, mincing around in cute heeled shoes.
That’s when I began in earnest to view the Skinny Jean in a new light. Perhaps this atrocity of proportions whose name implies something that doesn’t actually sound all that attractive (Bony? Knobby? All Knees and Elbows? Skinny?) actually had a purpose for its miserable existence? Perhaps the only purpose for their entire unbecoming existence is not so much to show off the plumpness or bony-ness of the body, but in fact to show off the sexiness of the feet? Like leg coverings, simply used to support a foot fetish?
With this in mind, I began to scour the stores for these Skinny Jeans. They can literally be found everywhere. It’s actually much harder to spot a pair of elusive non-skinny jeans in the wild, so in my quest I was indeed looking for a holy grail in a pile of shiny grails instead of the elusive and hard to find muskrat on the plains of somewhere. Indeed, there they were, everywhere I looked, and at a very cheap price.
I ended up buying a skinny pant that was not super thin, rather than jeggings or skinny jeans. Mostly because I wanted to be able to wear them to work where jeans aren’t allowed.
I brought my new purchase home and that’s when disaster struck. I went up to my room and attempted to find one top in my closet that actually goes with a skinny jean, trying on literally everything in my entire closet in the process.
You see, when you’ve avoided a trend for so long, your closet is the antithesis of that trend. Plus, any new trend is libel to make one feel slightly self-conscious. In my day, yoga pants were not in fact pants, nor were what we would call a thick (or thin) pair of tights or pantyhose, in fact pants. I had always been taught that these things covered the leg, yes (for modesty’s sake), but the top portion must be covered by additional material, hence the purpose of skirts or dresses.
Now, however, everyone thinks that anything that you can pull up like pants, is in fact pants (pull-ups?). The see-throughness of the item doesn’t even come into play. Nor the incredible tightness that shows off every last inch of the flesh that it covers. Every bulge you have is witnessed by the entire world. This apparently, is okay, even desirable.
Call me a prude, but I’m not used to showing this much covered skin (that makes sense right?), except at the gym in my yoga pants. I’m not used to the fabric clinging so tightly to my thighs. Most of my pants fit snugly at the top portion, then flow away, just slightly in the thigh, or else they’re a thick enough material that you don’t feel as if your every last secret is on display. Not that I have any secrets but at least with the thick bootcut jeans my secrets (Big butt? Thunder thighs?) were conveniently reigned into a pleasing non-intricate uniform-ish shape by the unforgiving fabric.
So…I struggled to find a top that would conceal and yet wouldn’t look idiotic. I did finally find 1-2 pieces of my wardrobe that looked okay with these skinny jeans but it was a lot of trial and error and saying… EEK!!! Will I feel naked and on display once out of the house!!?
But I do have to say that my feet, once revealed by these skinny jeans, in booties and boots and every other piece of footwear looked adorbs and took center stage.
So…is it all worth it?
For me, the only reason that I’m willing to wear a skinny jean is for the shoes. I mean if you won’t do it for the shoes who would you do it for? I feel like I’m saying, if you won’t do if for the children, who will you do it for? The shoes can be that important. I’m willing to make a personal sacrifice, but only for the shoes. It’s only 50 cents a day.
So…the moral of the story is that Skinny Jeans may in fact have one viable reason for their existence. I’ll give them ONE and only ONE reason. Otherwise, they still remain in my estimation a repackaged 1980’s body shape hating atrocity or else a way to be just about naked without actually being naked.