The Perfect Pair

1 Jul

The weekend saw me try and write only to end up clicking the dreaded “save draft” button because we all know what happens when we click that button. I think I’ve mentioned it in my previous post. Drafts are a pain because they look insipid and obviously incomplete and that leaves me with zilch motivation to pick up the pieces and put them back together into the pretty picture that I had initially painted in my head before I clicked the dreaded draft button. Ugh. So yes, I do have a lot of drafts which I haven’t visited. I should, but I can’t get myself to. I think it’s also got to do with the fact that a draft somehow reminds me of assignments I’d start and leave halfway through in college; except that I had to revisit those dreaded assignments, stick my butt in one place and get them done with. And because I have the liberty to stride by and not give drafts a second look anymore, I seem to be thriving on the exploits of that liberty. Anyway, thank you for reminding me that I have digressed way beyond civilization and that I should get back. Right. Writing. Yes, I did try and write about quite a few things that have been on my mind and still are. I hope to get that done eventually, and soon, hopefully.

It’s been a sick out weekend more or less. I think I got handed a flu kinda thing on a silver platter which my body happily accepted and thanked the world for being so generous in passing me yet another form of the sniffles. Ah, the wonders of life and illness. Anyway, so fall sick, I did. Spend most of my day cuddled under my day-blanket, I did. I do have a blanket for my day time snooze shenanigans and a quilt for my more serious night time sleeping scenes. Yes, I am crazy. I love crazy. You should know by now. And that’s how I spent my Saturday, folks! I loved it. Except the blocked nose that had me choking more than I would have liked.

And then Sunday happened. Now this is a day I’m not overly fond of. And I think it’s the only day in the entire week which really does follow the concept of Diminishing Marginal Utility. Yeah, that takes me back to my Economics classes from eons ago. Basically, I find Sunday to be that day which gets progressively annoying, irritating and depressing; a day whose utility just dwindles with every passing minute till you see the shadow of Monday gleam in the horizon. Having said that, what made my Sunday even more fun (and I’m being sarcastic) was that I had shopping to do. I must write about how I absolutely love shopping like I love Sundays. I cannot love shopping. I shop because I need to. I cannot languor around shops and malls. I cannot take pleasure in picking things up and trying them out. Trials are the bane of my shopping life. Shopping is annoying and a complete waste of time. And also, shopping is unnecessary unless required. And worst of all, shopping makes me poor because when I shop, I go all out. So now you know. I’ll reserve a separate post on shopping because I think I need to get that out of my system.

Anyhoo, shopping had to be done and so shopping was done! And lo and behold, here is what my post is actually about – that I actually did the unthinkable, that I actually went out there and bought myself my first ever pair of branded jeans. And then I decided at that very moment that I had to come here and write about it because bruh, it’s a big thing for me. I’ve never been a brand conscious girl. Neither have I been a particularly fashion conscious person. I’m more of the comfort over kill-self-to-look-pretty kinda girl. So when I say I’m not brand conscious, I mean to say that I’ve never really owned a pair of “branded” denims before because it just didn’t matter. And then I must tell you that I have the figure of God knows what (let’s call it the figure of Babska for future reference). So no branded pair has ever fit the figure of Babska like I would like a pair to fit the figure of Babska. So I found my solace at Vashis and Vashis has been my staple since forever.

Change has never been my strong point. And that got reaffirmed in the denims department when I stepped into a Levis showroom a few years back only to come out teary eyed because no frikkin pair fit me like it should. Also, a denims store could be a girl’s nightmare. As if being overweight wasn’t enough, you had constant reminders of just how terrible being overweight could be. And that’s when I told Levis that I loved myself more than I loved it as I walked out of the showroom never to return. And I didn’t burst into tears at all. I didn’t feel terrible as I opted to buy a skirt instead of a nice pair of jeans.

So when I saw the red board loom in on me, I sucked my fears in and took the plunge. I entered the store because I really needed a pair and I wanted a branded one. I was willing to take another beating of my ego and pride. I was just going to have to face reality again. So try pairs, I did. Feel weird, I did. I fit into almost all the ones the nice sales guy gave me.  But something just didn’t feel right. I’d tried about 10 pairs but I felt relentless nonetheless. And then he gave me the 11th pair which was to be my last try. And then I took it in. And then I saw the waist and my heart cringed. But relentless, I was. Squeeze my eyes shut and try them, I did. And by God, I think that pair was made for the figure of Babska. They fit like a dream. You know that pair which fits your thighs, ass and waist like a dream and makes you look pretty darn decent? Yup, that was it. I’d found my pair. And my pair, I made it.

I bought my first ever pair of Levis!! And I feel so frikkin good. It’s too soon to comment about the brand just yet, but let’s see how that goes. One step at a time. And yes, I still am the same. I still love myself. I still am overweight. But I think Levis did something about it.


Happy Monday, folks!

2 Responses to “The Perfect Pair”

  1. Gurupriya Atreya July 1, 2013 at 11:35 AM #

    Falling in LOVE with your blog :)

    • Babushka July 1, 2013 at 11:41 AM #

      :) Your comment just made my Monday! Keep reading. :)


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