You and I used to be such good friends. I remember the glee I felt when I was first able to squeeze into you. Vanity sizing or not, I hadn't been a single digit size since junior high... so you certainly played to my vanity and I purchased you on the spot.
We went through a lot together. We walked together across the quad to class on beautiful spring days. We got married and went on a honeymoon. We were thrilled to experience casual Friday together at CVES. We even found out together that I would be having a baby! We even suffered through morning/all day sickness together, and I wore you unbuttoned with a bellyband until I had no excuse.
When my jeans needed to grow panels, you quietly took your place in the back of my closet without complaint. What a faithful friend you were! You said you'd wait patiently for me, that we would be reunited someday... but not for another nine months, at the least.
But, dear Jeans, things changed. You stayed the same, true blue... and yet, I moved on. I grew up a little bit. And grew out a little bit, if we're being really honest. And I think your low rise got a little lower, hanging there in that closet.
I gave you one last chance. See, it's been almost a year since we said we'd get back together, and we never did. So I held my breath, and we were reunited...briefly. Yes, you zipped up easily. Yes, you looked great from the thighs down. And you would have been wonderful with the flip-flops today. But the muffin top was totally unflattering, and if I'm being one hundred percent honest, that muffin top and I will probably never part.
So, Single-Digit-Size-J.Crew-Jeans, the time has come for you to meet a new, younger, skinnier owner. You could do nothing but taunt me now, from your place in the back of the closet. And honestly, I need to make room for some new friends that will do more than just bring me down.
So farewell, and I bid you good luck. You will make a fine, fine jean for someone else.