If you'll excuse me for a moment I have to talk about some jeans.
I'm going to lay my soul and my secret shame bare, and share with you how many jeans I've purchased in pursuit of the perfect pair:
Obviously, I have no allegiance. These jeans have wildly differing price points, ranging from $30 to $300. The labels go from affordable (Cotton On and Supre) to luxe (Ksubi and MiH Jeans). They are slim-fit, boyfriend fit, straight leg, 'mum' fit, 7/8 length, high waist, ultra-high waist, and shamefully, NONE OF THEM ARE MY FAVOURITE.
I haven't built an effortless capsule wardrobe, I've dug a denim money pit.
In my endless quest for jeans that go with everything - that I can dress up or down, with a blazer and heels for work or a jumper and sneakers for weekends - I've come up bare.
The other night after work, as you do, I went to Kmart.
There, somewhere between the scrunchie wall and the sporting equipment, I encountered what LOOKED on the hanger like my ultimate pair of high waist, straight-leg denim jeans. They were on the wrong rack, certainly in the wrong department, almost like someone had *hidden* them.
When I went to look for this style in the denim section, I couldn't find any in my size. They were all gone.
"Snooze you lose," I thought, and hot-footed it to the changeroom to
hide from the lady who hid the jeans prove my first impression wrong.
But that's not what happened. The jeans slid on like a dream. They skimmed perfectly over my thighs (rigid but also slightly stretchy), sat nicely on my bum, fit snug around my waist, and cut off at the ankle just right (shorter girls know this is one of the most flattering styles for us.) Observe: