Denim, denim, denim. Suh-weeeet Denim!

You know what?  I have a beautiful body.  It’s perfect. 

It has carried and borne my Dear Husband and I three gorgeous and healthy girls.  It has fed them exclusively for the first six months of their life. 

It carries me from A to B without hardship.  It allows me to go about my day with a spring in my step, which brings a smile to my face, which then translates to an even springier spring. 

If treated with respect, it glows and shines and stretches and bends and it has fine-tuned it’s five senses (and it’s sixth wink wink) so that I can truly enjoy the life that I am living.

However, in the society I live in, it is not even close to perfect.  Why do I say that?  I’m not referring to the endless media that parades, in the same breath, that it values diversity yet only advertises on their big bulletin boards and glossy magazine pages, tall skinny long limbed (but still beautiful) women.  While that media doesn’t help, it’s not the cause of my comment. 

The ultimate cause for me to recognize that society does not deem my body perfect is the clothing that the said society offers to me. 

I am 4’8”.  I am not short, nor am I totally petite.  My body proportions range from size 4 to size 10.  The only thing that I am not is tall (unless you ask my kids). 

Tops and dresses are too long and too loose and have bust points that land on my waist.  Trousers are, again too long and have a crotch that always do funny things halfway down my thighs. 

And jeans – in my experience, alongside jackets and coats, jeans are the worst offenders.  Jeans are very subtle in delivering their message about my society-driven imperfections. 

So many experts say that if you’re a petite and on the shorter side then find a pair of jeans that fit your hips and hem the length accordingly.  Total cost = jeans + $15 (alterations).

Are you kidding me?  Is that all the advise that you have to offer me? 

What about the pockets that are too long and make my butt look like they end up halfway down my thighs? 

What about the knee break that actually is sitting on my calves and, while it might be somewhat acceptable when I’m standing in front of the mirror, it is a pain in the … well, the knee once I start walking and the knee break makes it’s way up my leg to sit on my knee and bunches thick denim around my knees and leaves my ankles bare?

What about the worn look where the faded denim, especially on my thighs, is supposed to mimic the natural worn look and the fading ends at the knees?  Hem accordingly means that the fading continues all the way to my lower calves and something weird has happened to the material around my ankles!  I won’t even start with the fading that is supposed to be where you sit down.

 If all of these things work together, pockets, knee breaks, lighter worn out denim, they offer the wearer a perkier looking butt, a slimmer silhouette and longer, never-ending looking legs.  If they don’t work at all, it doesn’t matter how well it fits around the hips, it just looks sad.

I still search for the perfect pair of denim jeans off the rack, but in the meanwhile I do this...

Before vs after alteration

Progress shot

Before vs after alteration