This past week I had to go shopping for something important.
Nope, it wasn’t a purse…it was new JEANS.
Do you have any idea how much I hate shopping for jeans?
You know this frustrating drill, don’t you?
After dragging myself from store to store, I inevitably end up leaving empty-handed and feeling only slightly less frustrated than when I have to go shopping for a new swimsuit.
If you’re like me and happen to sport some “dangerous curves,” you know it would be an understatement of epic proportions to call finding a pair of jeans that flatter a “chore.”
Add to my curves a shorter than average inseam, and you’ve got a situation akin to searching for The Holy Grail on your hands.
Like The Holy Grail, the perfect fitting pair of jeans probably exists, but I doubt this anthropologist is likely to discover them, even if I devote the rest of my life searching.
The upside of this tale is that I needed to find new jeans tout suite because my old ones had suddenly become too BIG.
Now what girl doesn’t like to wake up to find she’s magically dropped a size, am I right?
So, although I didn’t think my new smaller size would make any difference in the level of suffering I’d endure in trying to accomplish the impossible task of finding a new pair of jeans, (I was still the same shape and height, after all), I was a little excited that at least I’d have the consolation prize of hunting for a smaller, elusive pair.
Imagine my surprise when I found a new pair of skinny jeans that fit like a glove at the very first store.
Here I am wearing them at my birthday celebration this week!
Some might say this was luck and that I probably should have bought a lottery ticket that day.
But the perfect pair of jeans almost wasn’t to be, and it was all my fault.
You see I was trying to (as we so often do) solve this issue on my own.
As per usual, I’d politely dismissed the store’s friendly sales gal before heading for the fitting room with several styles of jeans I’d chosen in hand, each in THREE different sizes (if you’re curvy like me the variety of sizes needs no explanation).
I tried each pair on, and again, as per usual, NONE of them fit quite right.
One pair fit in the thighs, and the length was right, but alas they gaped enough at the waist that I could have used the space to tote a small baby behind me.
Although I knew that if I went down a size my thighs would probably no longer fit, I decided to try my luck on a smaller pair in that same style anyway.
As I came out of the fitting room with my stack of rejects to forage for round two options, I did something quite contrary to my usual self-sufficient nature.
In a rare moment of fashion exasperation, I decided to enlist the help of the previously dismissed modelesque employee whom I was still quite sure could never understand the plight of a pint-size curvy girl like me, but what the heck?
She looked me over and suggested I try on a different style that I was certain would never fit my curvy physique.
With conviction in my heart that this new style simply would not work, I grabbed two pairs in two different sizes anyway and headed back to the fitting room along with the smaller size of the style I’d already tried.
As predicted, the smaller size of the style I’d already tried on did not fit.
In fact, I could not pull them up any higher than mid-thigh.
With blood pressure rising, I yanked them off in mounting frustration over the waste of time I just knew this whole shopping excursion was doomed to be.
Then I tried on the NEW style suggested by the “helpful” sales gal.
I could practically hear angels singing as the smaller of the two pairs I’d brought into the fitting room with me slid over my previously smooshed thighs, zipped up, and exhibited only a marginal gap in the waist.
OMG! They fit, they looked amazing,
and I was completely shocked!
I should not have been so surprised.
This perfect-for-me style of jeans had been sitting there on the table alongside all the other styles the entire time I’d been struggling.
I’d simply hadn’t known because I’d rejected them out of hand as “not for me.”
You know what’s funny about this?
As I’ve coached women from professional athletes to stay at home moms through creating a lifestyle that supports them and fits them like a glove, I’ve found over and over AND OVER again that the perfect fit they haven’t considered yet, or have prematurely rejected, is ALWAYS already sitting in front of them.
They just couldn’t see it, and needed me to point it out so they could try it on and experience that moment of feeling the perfect fit.
Never once have I had to console some poor woman as we discovered that what she desired simply wasn’t possible.
I know you feel me when I describe the feeling of that pair of jeans sliding on and fitting perfectly.
When that happens, you feel like a million bucks.
Any area of your life can feel like a million bucks when you find the perfect fit.
When I created The Purse Process®, I designed it to be a perfect fit for me, and I feel like a million bucks whenever and wherever I share it.
Your version of the “perfect fit” is already waiting for you, too.
You just need someone to give you a little nudge and point it out to you…and maybe show you the ropes to going public with your irresistibly unique self.
Let’s chat about what the perfect fit means to you and where you might find it.
For way less than a new pair of jeans you can schedule a Clarity Call with me here and find out where you’re putting on blinders to the perfect solution to your lifelong struggle.
Your perfect fit is already on the table, isn’t it time you finally tried it on for size?
Until next week,
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