It’s been over a year since I bought new jeans and it was time for a new pair. I rank this type of endeavor with bathing suit shopping, and well, getting a pap smear. It doesn’t help that even in a city of 155,000, our shopping options are limited, especially since our mall is in the midst of renovations. It is what it is. But surely, there’s enough decent denim to cover this 37-year-old derriere. After a four-store excursion, this is what I’ve learned about my current options in my city:

MOM JEANS
Featuring the high waist, roomy thighs and tapered leg. Fantastic. These would be perfect with my Rudolph Christmas sweater.

THE FADE OUT
Not only does it look like you sat on a light table for days, you also get to have these fabulous faux creases, showcasing that you sat on a light table for days. I don’t know about you, but I just love having these particular areas showcased.

BLINGY BOTTOMS

As you can see, these are the most readily available option. Some even sport both fading and bling! I jokingly asked the sales guy if a pair of marshaling wands come with a purchase of these. Blank look. “You know, those handheld illuminated beacons airport signalers use to guide planes? These are like airport landing strips.” Ah, I then got the courtesy laugh and he politely pointed me to where I’d find the mom jeans. Poor guy, he’s just trying to pay for school.

Seriously, these are my options? I may be a 37-year-old wife and mother, but do I really have to be relegated to Lee comfort fit?! I don’t understand these trends in women’s jeans. Perhaps if I had two Boca chick’n nuggets for an ass (I’m a vegan after all), I might be able to get away with this, but even then, should I? Maybe for some women, their butt is so small, they need to bring attention to it; I’ve never had that problem. I fall in the range of size 6-10 (depending on the brand—and that’s a whole other blog post), so I most certainly don’t need jeans designed by a Las Vegas showgirl. Frankly, I think any woman, no matter what size she is, should never wear butt bling over the age of 18. (And I’m not even old fashioned; I have an arm full of tattoos.) But hell, if you can pull it off, more power to ya. For me, it’s a trend I’m all for boycotting. Sure, I could pay $80-$150 for less flashy designer duds, but I find that utterly ridiculous.

So I left these stores empty-handed and almost without my phone. Did you know you’re not allowed to take pictures inside Macy’s? Well, you’re not. My jeans are out there; I’ve found them before and I’ll find them again—with or without marshaling wands.

Ugh.