My sister and her family came to stay with us over the holidays. It felt so good to be close to her again. Since moving to our new Island home the thing I have probably missed most is being able to walk across a lane to get to my sister and her kids, and it's been the most conflicting feeling I've had since moving to our new home. I love it here, and it feels so right and natural to live here now. I walk around our new neighbourhood, into the shops, to the parks, the rec centres, in and out of neighbouring cul-de-sacs, and feel so incredibly grateful to finally call this home. It was the right move for me and my family, I know that. But those feelings of rightness and contentment don't exempt me from missing my family, and in particular my sister and her kids. As much as I know that the living arrangement we had couldn't last, I have happy memories of the short time it did. I also know that it is harder for her with her two kids and husband to make the trek over to see us, so I was supremely grateful and happy when they arrived, kids, SUV, suitcases and all, at our front door last Christmas.
The great thing about siblings, or at least my siblings, is that we fall into our easy familiar way of being together instantly and seamlessly. For three short days it was like nothing ever changed. Comfortable and comforting - what family should be.
Needless to say having my sister here reminded me once again how pathetic my current wardrobe is, and when she walked out of her room one morning wearing super stylish bright purple skinny jeans like she was born in them all I could think to say was "I want some of those." That very afternoon, bless her, she walked through the front door carrying a bag with an identical pair of bright purple skinny jeans just for me!
"They fit tight so I got you a size bigger." she warned.
Well, "fit tight" was the understatement of the year, and I soon found myself lying down on my bed pulling purple jeans up over my legs and hips with a force that caused a light sweat to break out on my brow. Nothing to make you feel like you shouldn't have had that second helping of Christmas turkey like a size too big pair of jeans that you can't get on.
I am not exactly sure when the skinny jean/leggings fad re-entered our lives, but it did. And now I am hard pressed to find any other kind of pant to wear. I have to admit, they look good once you squeeze yourself into them. Add a cute suede ankle boot or over priced leather riding boots and you can set the town on fire. Still, I can just see Jake looking at photos of his mama twenty years from now with vague disgust, making some nearly rude comment about how we could have ever been caught dead in such clothes. Butt tight, bright purple, skinny jeans? come on Mom!
I hate to think of what fashion statement is coming to replace the skinny jean and jegging, but sure as I know that there are three pairs of skinny jeans in my closet right now do I also know something even more challenging will be right behind it - and without doubt my sister will be convincing me that I'll need a pair.
"You'll break them in" she told me confidently that afternoon as I came shuffling stiffly out of my bedroom in my new jeans. Well, sista' these hips don't lie, and over a month later I still do the little breathe deep and hop around dance to get those puppies on. But on they get, several times a week in fact, and despite it all I love love love my purple jeans, especially because wearing them reminds me of my sister, across the big open ocean that separates us, who just might be wearing her purple jeans too.
Post script: no photo to attach to this post as every
single one I took of myself wearing the aforementioned pants looked completely ridiculous
and staged - I'm still perfecting the whole
hold-out-camera-in-front-of-mirror-and-snap self portrait idea, but I promise, purple skinny jean photo will appear one day soon.
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