I never realized how uncomfortable you were when you had just entered the fashion world. The low waist was such a thrill that I completely ignored how hard it was to manage. Maybe it was because we hit it off instantly.
We laughed and cried and were companions for a long time.
And then you became the brutal source of pain as it were and you stopped fitting me.
My reality came crashing down. I was shattered.
As I was lost in the desert of side fat and thigh flab, you laughed at me each time I opened my cupboard.
And then I found your counterpart, your evil twin, the dark blue, hide-all-my-fat denims that may be the same size but were more 'open' in their outlook. I got comfortable with them. They were addictive. Just like Chinese food.
They were like my second skin but they weren't skin fit. Irony, that life is.
And Now, years later, that you finally fit, that I finally rediscovered you, I realize that you are super duper (risking repetition!) Uncomfortable.
You may be that
You may not hide my side flesh. You may be so low (literally) that I am scared to even sit down.
And I may have to think a dozen times before going to the loo...
But you most definitely make my behind look super duper hot.
And that my friend, makes up for all your disabilities.
I knew I would overpower you one day.
And I just did.