I went to a local store at the mall, today, called Buckle. It’s a dedicated jeans shop (but they also sell shirts and shoes). There were low-rise jeans, mid-rise jeans, skinny, boot cut, flared, eco-friendly (seriously??) jeans, blinged-out jeans; I was experiencing denim-sensory-overload. There were also jeggings. I laughed my ass off when the salesgirl (whom I shall refer to as Candy since I was too tickled to catch her real name) nonchalantly said the word. I asked her to repeat herself so I could get another internal chuckle, “I’m sorry. What are these called?” Although, internally, she was probably thinking, “crazy old feed-bag needs to stick to workout pants”. I asked her if she felt stupid saying the word. She said, “No”. I asked how old she was (look, this wasn’t an interview. It’s not illegal for me to ask her that question). “I’ll be 22 this year!” (she was so proud of her age). Well, that answered my question… all of them.
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Current Mood:
Catty &
Playful &
Sassy