Getting Jeggings With It

I have a pair of jeans in my closet that I got before kids. Before husband. Before I even MET my husband.

We've been together for 11 years. My husband and I, that is.

They're a dark wash (the jeans, that is. My husband is more a light-brown wash), with kind of a fringe around the ankle. Not like a cowboy or anything. Just a little added flair. At least, that's what I thought when I bought them.

I remember sqeeeezing into them in the dressing room at the Gap. And then immediately turning around to check my ass in the mirror.

They were tight. But I liked them and I'm sure they were a screaming deal.

I might have worn them twice. Then I got too big for my britches. Not that I threw them out or anything. I just pushed them to the back of my drawer.

Thing is, they're still there. They are also now a size or two too big, which is the least of their problems. The waist is a little high, not approaching mom jean territory, but close enough. The fit is kind of...odd. I'll know I'll never wear them again. Them, or a couple other pair of jeans that keep them company in the drawer.

Why can't I quit them?

Jeans. We love them. We hate them. We can't get rid of them.

Remember lying on the floor and wiggling and jerking as you pulled up that pair you just HAD to get into? So you're yanking them over your hips, which are practically touching the ceiling so you can tuck your butt in to make it smaller. And then you get them over and up and THEN you have to button them. So you suck your gut in up to your throat and you hold your breath and you get it fastened.

Now you actually have to get up. You look around, searching for something to hang on to. Time passes. Leaves change colors and fall to the ground. It's snowing. Finally, the dog wanders over, wondering if you're in fact dead and considering whether he can start gnawing on your leg. You grab him and hoist yourself up.

Then you start doing deep knee bends, trying to get some give in the denim.

And you do, eventually. Because jeans are like marriage: they're made to hug you, but they're also made to have a little give.

Now that I am old, I don't do the Jeans Dance. Okay, maybe the knee bends. I don't want them real tight. I just want them to fit. And be comfortable.

This may not seem like much to ask. But it is. Anyone else gone to the store, brought in 47 pairs of jeans and left with exactly none? You can try on a dozen pair in the same size and they will all fit differently. So you never really know what your size is.

You might finally find something you like, but they ain't cheap. I mean, I'm not shopping at Walmart, people. So I maybe can justify one pair, like the 7s I got as a reward for losing the baby weight after Sage. But that's it for the year.

The problem with a lot of jeans for me is that, when I squat down to play with the kids or tie a shoe, David will mention that there's a leak under the sink that needs fixing.

That's right. Plumber's crack.

So this week I got to try on   Miracle Body jeans at a blogger get-together hosted by Ciaran at Momfluential. They're supposed to make you look like you've lost 10 pounds in 10 seconds. Without the stomach flu!

There were about a dozen women there of all shapes and sizes, the perfect models to see if these jeans truly are a miracle. I tried on a pair of their Samantha jeans which looked so fab on everyone else and... I didn't like them. They were fitted in the thigh, but were too big around the waist. I just wasn't happy and knew they'd join their denim cousins in the back of my drawer.

There weren't any other styles in my size. But there were a pair of their jeans leggings (forever more known as jeggings) in the next smaller size. After encouragement from everyone, I tried them on. And I was stunned to discover I liked them. How exciting to find something I liked after trying on just two pair! It must be some sort of record.

The jeggings have an elastic waist, like leggings, but they are real denim. The lycra helps keep them from giving you the saggy baggies, and if you made a pig out of yourself at lunch have had a few kids, it has a built-in panel to suck in your belly.

They're totally something to wear with a tunic (because this is not 1984 Boca, so the pink pumps and half-shirt get-up would be retro in a horrific sort of way).

They're a fun addition to my wardrobe. I think they're cute. And comfy.

Interested in a pair? You can get a coupon code for $20 off simply by entering Miraclebody's We Shape Women contest. You nominate a woman who's shaped your life - or you can even nominate yourself. The winner receives a trip to NYC, a celebrity makeover, and a $1,000 denim wardrobe. What's not to love about that?

See how happy I am? That could be you, reader. But with different hair. And maybe a different shirt. Possibly you'd pose somewhere other than the sidewalk in front of your house. Still, you'd be rocking the jeggings or one of the other styles and that's all that really matters.

Miraclebody Jeans provided the pair I am wearing. The opinions are provided by me.