But I have decided it is not me. It is the jeans.
Just the names alone give you some indication of the evil that lurks within. You have mid-rise, low-rise, so-low-rise and I-am-not-wearing-any-underwear-rise. A Brazilian wax comes complimentary with those I think. Then there are the high-rise or "mom jeans." These are the ones that land somewhere between the 6th and 7th rib. Then there are the wide leg, boot cut, straight leg and peg leg. It depends on if you want to look like an upside down pear or a church bell.
I am looking for something in between. I am looking for something with a front zipper longer than an inch. I am looking for something between the mid-rise and high-rise that could probably be called muffin-top-rise. You know what I am talking about ladies. Something to cover the god-given layer of child-bearing fat that no amount of crunches or carrot eating will get rid of. The layer that so casually and calmly rises out and over any jean waistline that dares to come near it. Muffin tops can be seen on young and old. And when left unchecked can cause even the most hormonal man to look away.
Low-rise jeans are not doing women with muffin tops any favors. Unless you have done Denise Austin's Abs of Steel workout along with P90X for about 5 years straight AND never had babies, you should slowly walk away from the low-rise. Just walk away.
The Muffin-Top-Rise-Jeans need to meet many criteria. They need to not only cover the muffin-top but flatten it without causing cramps or suffocation. They need to cover the c-section scar but not reach the saggy-nursed-too-many-kids-boobs. They need to 'give' when I bend over to pick up dirty socks, but not give so much that I look like Brittany Spears on a first date.
Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is. Until I find my Muffin-Top-Rise jeans I will have to be content in my stretchy, comfy yoga pants, that have never seen a day of yoga in their life.
