Devyn+W's+Op-Ed+Article

Dark, light, medium, ripped, not ripped, holey, skinny, straight, boot cut. No matter what form, you beasts are not my friend. I do not enjoy hopping, wiggling, doing little dances and other slick maneuvers to get into my pants in the morning. Nor do I enjoy having to constantly pull them up to great heights just to stay on my body. They are always either too tight, too lose, or when I finally find a pair that seem to fit just right, they begin to sag throughout the day when not attended to. I despise you when I look in the mirror and see that you have outlined my legs in such a way that it seems I have an upside down triangle attached to my torso. Starting with thick thighs, then down to skinny ankles. You make me self-conscious. “Is everyone going to notice my awkward shape?” You place geometric shapes where my legs should be, you make me seem shorter than I already am. Five feet is short enough as it is, and all you do is make me shrink even more. Not only do you make me feel uncomfortable, but you make the public feel this way too. No one wants to see my muffin top, and no one should have to. In your defense, this over pour is caused by too tight of pants, but when I buy a size that is obviously too large, and still get the same outcome, it is you who I blame. Jeans, you have done me wrong in more ways than one. You don’t stretch for me, so why should I stretch for you? I can’t forgive you anymore.