I Might Need a Nap

It has been a Monday–with all of the traits and emotions that are stereotypically attributed to Monday. I’ve heard more than one person say that it’s been a struggle today. And then some.

True. No doubt. But you know what wasn’t a struggle today?

My jeans.

I wear a certain size. Some years, months, weeks, and even days, that size has fit better than others. But when shopping I look for this size (well except for a certain brand or two that seem to enjoy sizing their clothes on the smaller side–y’all please cut that mess out). I’m embracing my mom jeans era…..which I entered when I began high school if I recall, and my Daddy took me shopping the day before I started high school. I believe he got me two pair of Lee Jeans from Rose’s. Which was odd because I don’t remember us ever shopping at this particular store location, and I’m not sure why it was Daddy who took me. I also don’t remember them being on sale, so how I got name brand jeans is beyond me. Still, mom jeans season began.

I’ve recently found another brand with little to no lycra, much like I remember those jeans I wore in high school. Not jeggings, jeans. Real denim. And I love them. In my stack of jeans (which I pretty much wear every day in my comings and goings), I have a pair that is one size bigger. I am not sure how that happened, but I suspect it might be that my eyes of a certain age aren’t as easily discerning between these two numbers as they once were, and I just straight up picked up and purchased the “wrong” size jeans.

Or are they?

The weekend before last I was cleaning and sorting and put my hands on these jeans. I threw them on and when I tell you it was life changing, I’m not even exaggerating. They didn’t cut into me and they didn’t stretch across areas that have served me well and don’t deserve being stretched across. (They should instead be honored for all of their feats and accomplishments, but that’s a post for another time.) These jeans, they…..I’m sorry, I’m searching for a better word, but I can’t think of one…..fit.

I remember watching “Kim of Queens” and hearing Kim Gravel say, “I’m a tight 12 and loose 14 myself.” I get it now. Yes.

As I zipped up those pair of jeans the first time since I’d brought them home, I remembered a reel I’d seen of a young woman assuring us all it’s okay if the clothes we wore last year didn’t fit. Buy a bigger size…..because sizes are a lie. Oh my land, if that’s not the truth! I have joked for years that if I ran for public office, my platform would be uniform sizing. If you wear a ten in jeans in this brand, you wear a ten in jeans and all pants of all brands. Same with shoes, especially dance shoes…..but I digress. This young woman’s words stuck with me and had me thinking.

After the day that I put on this larger pair of jeans, I made a promise to myself. Since Mondays are filled with a lot of walking back and forth and climbing stairs, I would make these my Monday jeans. They don’t demand a lot from me on a day that already does that enough all by itself. It felt like a perfect–forgive me–fit.

Since it takes a couple of weeks for something to become routine, I nearly forgot that today was Monday jeans day this morning. But when I remembered, I felt almost energized about rising and shining and giving God the glory this morning. I know, that sounds like hyperbole, but it really wasn’t. These jeans feel comfortable. Not that the other sizes piled up ready to be worn on any other day are UNcomfortable. They just don’t say, “Hey, you’re in charge–you call the shots and set your own limitations here, lady” like these do.

Which got me to thinking today:

Who decides what fit is flattering? Who decided that skinny jeans were “in?” And then that they weren’t? Who decides what denim wash is cool and which one is out of season? Who decided to make front pockets deep in some jeans and barely functional in others?

And who says that the size I’ve been buying all these years is “my” size? Is there shame in changing it up and making every day “Monday jeans day?” I’m wondering how I’d feel about my week then. It might make for a merrier me, and that’s something I could really live with.

Here’s to figuring out our best fits, whether jeans, clothes, or otherwise. Here’s to having the strength to say when something is holding us back or in way too tightly and then cutting it out of our lives so we can breathe and walk and move.

We really were made to move. Why not dress for success in that?

Just some late night Monday musings. Thanks for listening. Love to all.