Friday, April 23, 2010

Jeans That Fit

This is a topic that most women can relate to. Especially black women. It has certainly been one of my life-long challenges to find a pair of jeans that will cover my butt and also fit my waistline. I don't do low-riders, and I don't work as a plumber.

When I find a pair that fit, I usually try to buy more than one, same size, different color. That's another challenge. Then comes the issue of having the jeans keep their fit. A little bit of weight gain in the wrong place can relegate those great jeans to the back of the closet. Weight loss is less of a problem, but women don't like baggy jeans. And if you wash (and heaven forbid, dry) those jeans that fit, you can find yourself lying out on the bed with a pair of pliers trying to zip them up.

I got excited when Cookie Johnson was on Oprah introducing her line of jeans designed for the black female figure. But then she introduced the price too. You can purchase those wonderful figure-hugging jeans at Nordstroms and Nieman Marcus starting around $110 per pair. I also found them online today at Zappos in the same price range. That's at least twice what I want to pay for a pair of jeans.

Undeterred, I still continued my search. In October, I found what appeared to the perfect jeans online at Coldwater Creek (Natural Waist Curvy Bootcut Jeans). It was during one of their big sales, and the jeans cost $22.49. I didn't dare buy more than one, for fear they would fit. Coldwater Creek delivers quickly, and I tried those jeans as soon as they arrived. Perfect fit!!!

Then I remembered what one of Oprah's advisers had said about maintaining jeans that fit. He said, "Don't wash them. Freeze them." I remembered Oprah's mouth dropped open when he said it. He assured her that the freezing kills any funkiness on the jeans. She still looked skeptical, and I doubt that Oprah would even consider freezing her jeans. But I tried it. After I wore those jeans twice, I put them in a zip-loc bag and put them in the freezer for a couple of weeks. The next time I wanted to wear them, I pulled them out, hung them up long enough for them to get to room temperature, and wore them.

Now it's the end of April and I still haven't washed those jeans. I haven't spilled anything on them or worn them in mud or rain, or bathroom accident. They still smell fresh out of the freezer.

I have been back to Coldwater Creek several times trying to buy more of those same jeans, and the price was back up to $59.95 (OK, I'm cheap)....until today, I found them for $29.99 at their Outlet store. I tried buying two, but they only had one in my size....ARGHHH. After I get the new one, I'll take a chance and wash that first pair. But I'll freeze those new ones.

So if you see me wearing jeans that really look good, don't be coming up behind me with that Jill Scott, "Raheem...sniff, sniff."

Monday, April 19, 2010

Troubling the Waters

I blogged before (here) about going to Labadee for the Beach Party on our Cruise. We went last week on the Celebrity Solstice, cruising the Caribbean. The final port was Labadee, Haiti.

I decided I wouldn't feel guilty about being there, even knowing that just over the mountain, there are people still without a roof over their heads in Port-au-Prince. Royal Caribbean and Celebrity ships stop at Labadee every week, and since the earthquake, have brought emergency supplies with every visit.

Since we had been there before, we knew to expect a large space for the local artisans to sell their wares. Hubby came prepared to "stimulate the economy," buying wooden carved stuff, and wicker woven stuff, and assorted objets d'art.

I was fine hanging out on the beach for a while, but the winds were high, and the shore was rocky. I had a hard time keeping my hot dog and ribs from blowing off the plate. I started feeling troubled. The spirits were calling me.

It was the same dizzy claustrophobia (even in an open space) I had in the slave dungeons at Elmina Castle, in Ghana. The spirits of the dead were calling me from under the rubble on the other side of the island. Will our dead ever rest in peace?