For months now, a resounding, slightly rude message has been following me everywhere I go: skinny jeans are out.
It whispers in my ear when I'm at Westfield, spilling out from the shop windows. Skinny jeans are not cool anymore, lady, says the disembodied voice. We don't care that you've spent the better part of a decade buying the exact same style of jeans in slightly different colours. Gen Z somehow gained a weird amount of power and turned fashion on its head.
When I'm out with friends, the voice gets louder. It's not just capitalism that's sh*tting on my choices, it's the subtle messaging from everyone around me. Non-skinny jeans have a... vibe, in that they're silently communicating that they're better than you. I don't need to be tight to be flattering, they say. Am I even flattering? Maybe I don't even care.
So like the self-assured, independent, mature person I am, I threw all my skinny jeans in the bin* and dedicated an unhealthy amount of time to finding non-skinny jeans that don't look ridiculous on a very short woman.
*Note: I did not throw my skinny jeans in the bin. That would be wasteful.
For context, jeans generally are a nightmare for me. Last time I checked, I wasn't quite 5 foot. I say that as though I may have grown, but given I'm 30 it's unlikely. I have hips but no bum, which confuses every pair of pants I put on. They either fit on the hips but are baggy, or fit my legs fine but don't do up.