You know those skinny bitches who can order jeans off the internet that they’ve never tried on before and when they arrive they fit perfectly? I am not one of them. And if you’re one of them, I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, as well as a lot of other curse words behind your back. Kind of.
I’m one of those d’Anjou-shaped women who goes to the store and apologizes to the salesperson 9,000 times for bringing 100 pair of jeans into the fitting room. And then after trying all of them on, I’m forced to pick between the pair with the 80’s wash and the pair with rhinestones on the pockets because they’re the only ones I could squeeze over my thighs.