here's the skinny.
One of the best things about attending an art program is that you'll never be the worst-dressed person there. For example, a girl in my History of Furnishings class has, four times in a row, worn an up-to-"there" jean skirt with Uggs. There will always be a handful of girls who took "personal style" a step too far, so what feels like a fashion risk to me is hardly a "blip" on the college fashion scene. But, one of the worst things about art school is that it's easy to feel like you lack all style completely, like you're just....grey in a world of brilliant hues.
Spending 20 hours a week with blossoming designers and artists who routinely don fierce combos, has left me feeling less than loving about my wardrobe. So, mission numero uno was to conquer skinny jeans. Over the years, I've thrown some jagged comments at skinny jeans, and clung desperately to my various Gap bootcuts. Were it up to me, bootcut would be all I'd ever wear. But it seems the way of tops is going towards flowing, floating and amorphous shapes. I could complain about this for weeks, but it is what it is. I'm the last girl in school to make the switch, and it's now or never. Slouchy tops don't play nicely with roomy bottoms, and it's time for me to move on.
Off to the mall I went. After the first two pairs, it was abundantly clear that if this bod were a fruit, it would be a pear. I have one weighty bottom half. I'm sure in five years, I'll be splayed out in some delivery room thanking heaven for these child-bearin' hips, but my utterances in the fitting room were anything but thankful. Two major problems:
Problem #1: What was going on in the crotch area was INSANE. More puckers than a room full of grandmothers.
Problem #2: Tragic silhouette. If the pyramids of Giza were flipped on their tops, they just might compare to the silhouette I found in the Old Navy fitting room.
Determined to press on, I sampled at least ten additional cuts and washes at different stores, to no avail. It was finally at my last stop where I found a pair that seemed acceptable. I needed to size down to avoid awkward "bagging". Typically, I find myself most comfortable in a size 10, but I wound up with an 8. Also, I found it best to avoid supertight fitting fabric (like an all-stretch jean), as it only emphasized my ample behind and out-of-proportion hips. When I got home, to the comfort of my own mirror, I discovered that my body does not lend well to pairing skinny jeans with flats. It's shlumptastic. Whenever possible, I should rock them with a heel. Also, my few lengthy, flowy shirts covered a multitude of sins. (And by 'sins' I mean the few love pounds I've put on since Ireland.) I'm still not 100% sold on the idea, and my ankles are experiencing some claustrophobia. For now the semi-offending pants are back in the bag with tags still on, until I can convince myself it was all a good idea.
Have you attempted the switch to skinny jeans? Was it flawless, or a complete failure? Hit me with your skinny jeans tips, girls!