Content note: This post is not sponsored, I just really bloody love these jeans. (Really, really.)
As a woman who goes through life feeling (and looking) like a very awkward, very uncoordinated tree, jeans shopping has always been tricky.
Nearing 180cm in height, every pair of jeans I yank onto my legs end up looking like 3/4 length cut-offs. Both of my sisters, Evelyn and Claire, experience the same problem… it’s kinda like trying to fit a giraffe into a sock.
You see, tall women are outcasts, existing on the fringes of Jeans Society, longing for the warm embrace of fabric on our calve/ankle area.
So at 23, I had all but admitted jeans defeat, and resigned myself to a life with chilly cankles.
Until Claire, bless her lanky soul, told me a piece of information that would change my life forevermore.
“The $30 jeans at H&M,” she whispered into my ear during an episode of Masterchef one night. “You will never look back.”
“You idiot,” I hissed while Matt Preston pondered the complexities of grilled halloumi. “$30 jeans would be so flimsy they’d disintegrate into my skin.”
Oh, how wrong past Michelle was.
LISTEN: “No skinny jeans after 47” a completely unhelpful fashion study says. (Post continues…)
The next day I found myself walking past H&M, and marched straight towards the jeans section to eye off the ‘DIVIDED Super Skinny High Waist’ jeans.
“$30,” I mouthed, slowly. “Thiiiiirtyyyyyy Dollaaaaaaars.” I squinted, looked behind my shoulder, then back to the jeans again. “Thirty. Dollars.”
I’ve spent more on shitty burgers at suburban restaurants. $30 seemed too good. And considering H&M was recently listed as one of the world’s most ethical companies, I was CONVINCED that I was being short-changed on quality. I mean, I’m not daft (unless we’re talking about geography… then I am very daft, but that’s a whole other issue).
I squinted at the price tag some more, and inspected the fabric. The stitching. The… smell.
I can confirm: they felt, looked, and… smelt … like ordinary jeans; and no, not like the $400 jeans you would find in Sass & Bide, but a lot like the ones I’d paid $109.95 for online 10 months prior. (Currently at the bottom of my floordrobe… too short.)
Okay, so real talk, the material was thin and stretchy, but in a good I-could-eat-a-heap-of-dumplings-in-one-sitting-without-unbuttoning kinda way.
I hauled them into the change room and slid them on.
They weren’t only LONG ENOUGH… they might have even been a touch TOO LONG. I could CUFF THEM IF I WANTED, YOU GUYS.