Jeans r Us by Bill Storie

Jeans r Us by Bill Storie

More to the point, Jeans r Me.

I’ve never been a big fan of wearing jeans. I appreciate that they are practical, and on some folks they look nice. But I’ve never thought I looked good in them, ever. Probably I’ve never bought expensive jeans. I guess I’ve worked on the basis that my hesitation to spend lots of money is due to my heritage as a Scotsman, or as would seem more appropriate, “It’s in the jeans !”

But a few weeks ago, I had a flash of “Jeanious”

I came across a website that advertised made to measure jeans. All you have to do is follow their guidelines about how to measure yourself, send it off and a couple of weeks later you will have the best fitting jeans ever. So my wife and I set about doing the measuring. Sounds simple right? Nope. Some of the bits of body they wanted measurements for seemed weird to me, but not being a jeans expert, I played along.

So, we inserted all the measurements online and hit “submit”. The screen went blank. Had it gone through or not? No idea. Waited several minutes and nothing happened so we decided to start again. And once again, that sounds simple. However, as we had not actually written down the results first time, we couldn’t remember whether we had inserted 10 inches or 12 inches for my knee size for example. Sounds daft I agree, but when you get older, simple things have a habit of being awkward.

By the way did I mention that the supplier is in Mumbai, India?

I had not paid any attention to where the jeans were coming from. I just charged straight ahead to prepare an order. By chance I happened to look at their website details and found out they were in India. Oh well, march on. The order was eventually placed. Thoughts of it having been ordered twice didn’t cross my mind. Luckily the supplier wasn’t as silly as me -they were only ordered once.

Now the wait.

While waiting we had several moments of chuckling trying to envisage a pair of jeans that were 6 inches too long, 5 inches too tight and flared only at the top.

But the next crazy thing in this exercise was a couple of days ago.

The supplier finally sent me notice that the order was complete and they were on their way by a recognized, worldwide, expert courier service. Great. I was given the tracking number and I have been diligently watching my jeans fly around the world unattended. My jeans were now world travelers, probably gaining air miles as well. Woo-hoo.

However, as I write this, they haven’t quite arrived yet. Well to be fair that’s not exactly true. Get this ….

It has taken two and a half days for my jeans to move from Mumbai through New York to Cincinnati then over here to Bermuda. They cleared customs yesterday as 3 pm. But the tracking information says that they won’t arrive at my house until Thursday afternoon – in other words, two days to move from our airport to my house – I live 10 minutes from the airport by the way.

You couldn’t make this up.

So, soon I will be wearing my exactly measured jeans. I will look great. I will swear that I should have done this years ago and that I am now a jeans-man.

On the other hand I may have to walk about the streets of Bermuda in some sort of Sari in Blue, looking like a mis-fitting old geezer. I’ll blame it on wife of course for not measuring certain body parts correctly due to bad measuring, or memory loss !

If I like how I look I’ll take a picture and post it. If I look bad I won’t.

My new lifestyle with Serge de Nimes (get it?).

By Bill Storie

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