Why I hate being a denim Inbetweener

I really enjoy shopping, strike that, who am I kidding? I love it.

I spend hours thinking about what I want and justify why it deserves a place in my wardrobe and a mark on my bank statement.

Vintage, bags, shoes, tops and dresses, you name it, I want it.

However one thing that keeps me up all night, and not in a good “If I buy that top it’ll go with that skirt” kind of way, is that dreaded pair of jeans. Because I’m one of those Inbetweeners.

Unlike it’s Channel 4 comedy namesake this isn’t a laughing matter. In fact I’m sure those who know what I’m talking about, and according to Asda who launched a mid sized jeans range last year that’s about two thirds of women, will back me up when I say it’s really quite horrible.

For those lucky enough to be feeling confused at this point, let me explain.
A denim Inbetweener is really what it says on the tin, it’s someone who’s, well, inbetween jean sizes.

You can spot an Inbetweener in a range of ways.

She’ll be the girl who comes out of the changing room dripping with the sweaty challenge of having tried to wriggle into those size 10s, 12s or 14s.
Or girl who’s legs and feet are sticking out of the changing room door, a la the wicked witch of the East in the Wizard of Oz but without the perks of those pretty red glittery shoes, while she lies down struggling to get that zip past the crotch area.

And finally it’s that lady you’ll hear frantically whispering on the phone, which translates as “SOS,quick, help, I’m stuck in this pair of jeans”. She’ll also be the girl covering that little tiny hole she made in the bottom area of the denim when she breathed out too quickly with the relief on getting them on before realising the muffin top was too big to disguise. Yes I hold my hands up to that one, and have tried on many occasions to hide that ripping sound with a cough.

But we’re not doing this just so we can say we fit into a smaller size, after all we’re not like Kerry Katona and in denial about what those endless take-away are doing to our waistlines, we’re doing it because the next size up is too frigging big.

It’s the GM Goliath equivalent of the size below, and while there’s no problem getting this size up, it’s keeping it there that’s the problem.

Talking to my friends I know I’m not alone and they too have a story to tell about their own Inbetweener scenario (one had to resort to asking a shop assistant to help her pull her too tight jeans off during one very bad emergency). We’ve also pinpointed some of the worst offending shops, which although I won’t name, I’m sure you know who they are.

And I’ve come to conclude that online jeans shopping is the worst. Yes they may have size charts but honestly who has a tape measure handy and time to measure that waist and hips, especially when it’s peak shopping time and there’s only one pair of those jeans in your (hopefully right) size left?

And when that package arrives and you squeeze yourself into them (there’s so much more time to do this in the comfort of your own home) you end up walking around like a penguin because there’s no one on SOS size duty. Not even that smug assistant.

So I’ve decided that until other retailers sort out their sizes or follow Asda’s mid size lead there’s two options into fitting into those jeans.

1. Follow Renee Zellweger’s lead when she needed to beef up for her Bridget Jones role, and eat as much fast and fatty food as possible to fit snugly into the next size up.

2. Work out at the gym for a good few weeks to slim into the smaller size.

Hmm now where did I spot that Krispy Creme drive thru? And I wonder if they do loyalty points?