Jeans Hell and a Camel Toe

While shopping for jeans/pants the other day I remembered my first high school boyfriend. Also Brazilian, he had an interesting style. Poor guy, the worst was a pair of whitish and stone washed jeans. 

Fast forward 12 yrs later and I am wearing a similar pair only hammer style. There is a simple explanation to my spontaneously random change in jeans style, there were no normal jeans! 

I went to so many stores on Wednesday that I was in Rachel shopping hell. I actually had a salesgirl pull out a pair of skinny jeans with zippers up the side of the leg. I know this is may be cool and new for some but I remember wearing them when I was 10 yrs old.  

The whole process just made me feel old! Sure, the stuff fit me, but I couldn't buy half of it. For starters, I'm now required to bend over in day to day life. While some may enjoy seeing me lose money all over the place (aka. show crack), I'm thinking it's not a classy thing to do at the park with your kids. 

And don't even get me started on the Brazilian camel toe! I guarantee that half the pants down here are made for that effect. Personally, I can't understand why the Brazilian girlie bits aren't running off in protest. Then again, maybe they prefer to live in two territories with a dividing wall much like East and West Germany. 

Basically, I had a lot of ass and vag suffocating pants to sift through before I could get to something that was comfortable, sexy, and made my butt look good. I think this time around I went a little far to the left on the anti-suffocation part. I mean, I could give birth in these jeans and continue on my way. 

I think Hammer jeans should be considered the new form of baby-wearing: Proven to be even more comforting than the heartbeat, carrying near the vag gives the infant the feeling that they never left the womb at all. 

Anyway, I had to settle for 2 out of three in the Brazilian jeans world. You can't win them all. Surprisingly though, I like these jeans more and more every time I wear them. Maybe I should stop bitching about random Brazilian jean styles and instead let them open my mind a bit. I can't always hop a plane back home to my lovely Sevens.