Bib* attempts to wear skinny jeans

Last night I went to a workshop and I chose to wear my skinny jeans. Right now they are my fave jeans and I wanted to wear them. I had wanted to wear them to work, but my workplace was not that casual. As such, I was determined to wear them on my own time. They were not the appropriate outfit for the workshop though. It was a rope tying workshop (bondage ties, but we were all fully clothed and it was a fun casual atmosphere), and I was lacking serious mobility in my jeans. I hadn't really thought about it because I can walk fine in them. My main concern before leaving the house was in controlling my belly flab.

See, my skinny jeans look nice on [at least in my opinion and since I'm not providing a photo, y'all can just take my word for it], but I have to wear a longer shirt with them or else I look like the drunk old guy at a baseball game. You know the type - sitting right in front of you where you can't help but notice him slumped in the bleachers, t-shirt riding up to expose his pasty belly flab, and pants lowered down enough in back to give you a hint of his ass cheeks. In order to avoid this frightening look, I not only wore a longer t-shirt, I also wore a half girdle that held in my flab so that if my shirt did ride up, people would only see the black fabric of the girdle.

Like I noted, I was fine. I was walking fine, I'm flexible enough that I can bend over and place the palms of my hands directly on the floor in front of my feet, and I could sit. I figured I was good to go. Unfortunately the one thing I can't do in those jeans is anything that requires squatting down as jeans get too tight to fully bend my knees.

I was reminded of this when I reached the place and couldn't remove my shoes. One woman offered to untie my shoes for me, but I decided to get them off by that awful method of stepping on the heels and pulling my feet out without untying them. After that I was fine. At least for a while.

At some point in the evening as we were gathered around our instructor demonstrating how to fashion a new type of knot, I either lost my balance or was bumped into by someone. In any event, unable to quickly move my legs and adjust my weight, I completely toppled over sideways like some sort of tin soldier in a child's war game. Or perhaps more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa that leaned a bit too far. It was the most ridiculous fall but luckily the floor was padded where I fell and I didn't hurt myself. And even more fortunately, the girdle held the belly flab in place so I was able to readjust myself while lying on the floor, without exposing uncontrolled fleshage.

I don't think any woman needs bondage or rope when we endure such things as skinny jeans. And high heels. And tight skirts. And a million other fashions which render us immobile. Still, I love my skinny jeans. I wore them to a bike repair workshop tonight.



* Bib (or rather, Bibendum) is the name of the Michelin Man. I learned that from the host of this workshop who told the story of some guy who after a nasty divorce referred to his ex as Bib. I was definitely in danger of resembling Bib before I dug out the girdle.