Saturday afternoon found me with some time on my hands before a fancy-dress ball so I thought I’d take one for the Manolo team and visit the mall to see if I could lay my hands on a pair of those supposedly miraculous Lane Bryant “Right Fit” jeans. As a personal note, I hate malls. There are very few things I wouldn’t do to get out of going to one, and most of them are prohibited by the Geneva Convention or the laws of physics anyway.
Friends, my ass looks fantastic. Seriously, I’m not sure in the past few days since I’ve owned and worn my Right Fit jeans if my rear end has actually inspired poetry, but frankly it’s just a matter of time.
The jeans are brilliant and the fit system is a revelation. I’m a “Blue” which means I’ve got a teensy little waist and hips broad enough to birth the U.S.S. General Nimitz …sideways. The flares, which look dated to me anyway, are too flare-y and bizarrely long even for my 5’10” frame, but the stretch bootcut is just perfect. The length is good, the colors are attractive without being fashion-y and perhaps best of all THERE ARE NO WHISKERS ON MY THIGHS!!!
So even if you hate the mall, do your fanny a favor and get fitted for a pair of these jeans. Then do what I do, avoid the unwashed masses (including a sales girl who smelled her own feet while she was ringing me up) and buy the rest online.
Incidentally, I got asked out by five –Five? FIVE!– guys the first night I wore them. Those are some jeans.