I'm Concerned About Skinny Jeans

I’m concerned about skinny jeans. More specifically, I’m concerned about my excitement over wearing them. I didn’t have this feeling at a higher weight. At my highest weight (224 pounds), I wore skinny jeans and felt unattractive and inconsequential. They were the first things to go when I had my Men’s Pants Epiphany. I saw them as a plus-size adaptation of feminine, objectifying, straight-size skinny jeans. I hated the way they clung to the leg, tapering down to a tightly fitted ankle, making me look like a tomato on a stick. And yet, despite this passionate rejection of the style, I’m suddenly harboring a secret desire to don the skinny jeans I recently pulled out of storage. They’re a size 12, and they just about fit since they have some stretch. And every day, ever since I hung them in my closet, I get a little giddy at the thought of wearing them. I’ve resisted so far, sticking to my baggy wide-leg linen pants. Because I know something is not quite right about it. I sense that my motives are questionable. Firstly, because I’m being blatantly inconsistent. Why did I shun the style 40 pounds ago? 20 pounds ago? What makes them suddenly attractive? Is it simply the thrill of fitting into a smaller size? I don’t think it’s quite that simple. I don’t think I’d be quite this excited to fit into my elastic-waist shorts from storage. I’m certainly not as excited to fit into my white pencil skirt that also stretches to fit. So what’s different about the jeans? Is it the fact that they have a button and zip-fly closure? Is it the more defined waist size that makes for more thrilling a fit? That makes some sense, but I still think there’s more to it. I think I’m falling into an old trap- one I’ve fallen into before.

I think I’m tempted to show my body off more now because I’m getting thinner. Regardless of the recent revelation of my affinity for menswear, for boots and belts and loose-fitting men’s dress pants, I’m falling prey to the classic temptation of wearing more revealing clothes when I lose weight. Often when we imagine ourselves thinner than we are, we see ourselves victorious, wearing a bikini or body con dress, regardless of our personal sense of style. As a child of the 80s, I still see those Dexatrim ads in my mind- the lady in the blue bathing suit by the pool, smiling because she is thin. I see the Before and Afters from Woman’s Day magazine covers- the After always showing a woman in a tight-fitting dress or bathing suit. And it’s hard to shake those associations I have with weight loss. I’m still getting sucked in, despite years of feminist thinking, of trying to escape the male gaze, of trying to accept my body at any size. I’m still holding a candle for that skinny version of me in my imagination that feels comfortable in spandex in public. And every time I’m thin, I try to make that image a reality. I get excited as the numbers on the clothes start to fall- 8, 6, 4, 2- and start browsing the sale rack of bikinis. Who am I? In what universe is this the person I want to be? And yet.

And yet, here I am again with the skinny jeans. They’re a gateway I tell you. You start with the skinny jeans, you move on to a short skirt, and the next thing you know, you’re in a bathing suit. But I never feel comfortable in those clothes. I remember being very thin while I was in a play, and the costume designer having to revamp all my outfits so that I would stop hunching over and standing weird in the short, tight skirts and dresses. We settled on a maxi dress and a matching pants set so I could focus on getting into character instead of hiding my body. So I know I’m not comfortable in tight clothes, in “sexy” clothes, in revealing clothes. No matter how thin I am, it’s just not me. So as much as I want to squeeze into those jeans and fish for compliments, I think I’m just going to pass and let them go. I have to protect myself from this slippery slope and stay true to my comfort zone. Partly for my own sense of self, but also to avoid gaining all the weight back. Because my subconscious feels so strongly about this issue that it will go so far as to make me regain some weight just so I stop making such bizarre fashion choices. And I don’t want to have to start bingeing again just to avoid the bathing suit aisle of TJ Maxx. I need to admit to myself that the blue swimsuit on the Dexatrim ad is not my destiny. I need to just look for another pair of men’s pants at the thrift store and stick with what I know feels right.