6 reasons jeans shopping sucks when you’re a mum

imageThis week I was forced to endure the self esteem annihilation exercise that is shopping for jeans.

It was either that or continue sporting a saggy-ass pair of black jeans that have stretched to the point of no return. And, having given birth to three babies, I feel like I have the authority to make accurate assessments about things that have stretched to the point of no return.

Jeans shopping sucks. It’s an established fact. A widely accepted, overarching universal law of nature. But I’ve come to the conclusion that it actually sucks more when you’re a mum. Here’s why.

Maternity jeans 

If you’re jeans shopping shortly after you’ve selflessly brought new life into this world, firstly, go home. Languidly enjoy the free pass that is the limited post pregnancy months where you need not do something as confidence destroying as jeans shopping. Please.image

You’ve also probably had at least a portion of the last nine months spent wearing the luscious elastane divinity commonly referred to as the maternity jean. The literal equivalent of a pair of pants that fits even though you’ve just spent the last three weeks at the all you can eat Sizzler buffet.

Once you’ve been lulled into a false sense of security by the accommodating elastic banded blissfulness of a stretchy front panel, you’re pretty much ruined for other jeans.

Me time 

In some horrendous twist of misogynistic perversion, jeans shopping suddenly morphs from “unpleasant necessity” to “me time” when you’re a mum. And yet, equating “me time” to the shoehorning of oneself into the unyielding, sturdy yet constrictive workwear of 19th century miners, whilst a nubile young former gymnast bangs on the door and asks if you’re “right for sizes”, somehow doesn’t seem like justice has prevailed over womankind.

Me time, quite rightly, is supposed to entail wandering around Target buying things for the children instead of yourself, drinking coffee whilst looking at photos of the children, and talking to strangers about how you have children at home. Jesus. It’s a pretty simple concept.

Fitting rooms

I think we all know well that when an enthusiastic sales assistant asks how you’re going in the fitting room, it’s the equivalent of someone knocking on the public toilet door and asking you if you need help wiping your ass. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit.

As a parent I have forgone any prior misconceptions I had about even going to the toilet without an audience again, so it would be pretty all-time to be able to try on a pair of pants without someone poking their beedy little judgement eyes around the curtain right when I’m trying to haul a pair of pants over the tub of cottage cheese stuffed into sausage skins masquerading as my legs.


I’m pretty sure buying a pair of jeans that are too tight is akin to marrying a man thinking you can change him.

And yet… it’s still a thing. A thing that happens.

On my journey to the seventh circle of hell, my helpful sales assistant talked me down a size initially.

Oh happy day.

What were the most comfortable jeans I’d ever worn became a slightly tighter version of the most comfortable jeans I’d ever worn. And 76% more likely to come home with me. Because vanity sizing for the win. Why buy a 27 when you can buy a 26? Meanwhile, I don’t even know what those sizes are. What ever happened to 6, 8, 10, 12? Is this a #fashion thing I was not aware of?

So this point was where the fitting room’s appointed slice of rainbows and skinny-jean-wearing perfection just started to flat-out lie to me.

“Try the 25” she said, “that will be the right size”, she said.

Flattery will get you nowhere hunny but please, tell me more about how “adorbs” I am.

As it happens, squeezing my child bearing hips into the “right size” jeans for me meant practically amputating my own ass after reconfiguring my calves so they were situated somewhere near my shoulder blades.


“They will stretch”.

My logical brain does know they stretch. As previously stated, I know a lot about stretching. That being said, I carried twins to full term and I still believe nothing stretches as far as those size “25” jeans were going to need to. Denim may give, but this denim was giving me nothing but a distinct lack of blood flow from my knees to my brain. I need my brain. I use it at least 2-3 times a week.

Also. I need to be able to bend. And, you know, eat a meal every now and then ideally. I also can’t guarantee that whatever weird size that I am now which sounds more like the amount of spoonfuls of Nutella I’m going to eat in the privacy of my own laundry, will be the size that I am next week.


It’s been scientifically proven that I’m a tight ass. Maybe I should have been buying the smaller jeans after all. Badum bum. Chh.

Buying jeans that look deceptively like jeans doesn't come cheap
My new jeans, that look deceptively like jeans. That kind of sorcery don’t come cheap. 
But seriously, I baulk at buying bread with seeds if it costs an outrageous 20c more. As a stay at home mum there is also a certain amount of guilt that is associated with no longer being a money earner, so as such, I find it even more difficult to fork out excessive amounts of money on an item I’m only going to have the confidence to wear in a dimly lit room.

That said, I still bought $139.95 worth of jeans instead of the $69.95 pair I went for.

And last, but certainly not least…


“Skinny leg” jeans pleased stop mocking me. That is all.


30 thoughts on “6 reasons jeans shopping sucks when you’re a mum

  1. Oh dear, I am bemused by your story. I have had no children in this entire lifetime, although I suspect I had miscarried when I was in my early 20’s. So, perhaps I have no conception (if you will forgive the pun) of jeans shopping as a mum.
    However, I too love to eat and I love to eat well. My partner, who does all the cooking, thinks I am the size of a football team, complete with the cream puffs. So I have enlarged somewhat from my wonderful and comfy size 10 that I was when we got together to four sizes larger. It does not help that he tantalises me with delicious potato crisps, chocolates of all sizes, shapes and centres, or cakes and nibblies to have after dinner. So all my non-eating during the day goes sadly awry at night and my tummy has the entire night to hopefully digest all of what my eyes desired and be relieved of it in the morning’s middlings.
    I went jeans shopping some six months ago and came out with two pairs of pants that had elastic waistbands that made me look six sizes bigger, though were at least colourful so I had something “happy” to wear. I have worn one pair often, though somewhere between the door and the dresser, sadly lost the other pair.
    My sympathies to you as a mother. Just let it be known that not only mothers suffer with this problem. Be happy you at least have a few happy faces to show for your size. I have no such excuse. AND I have two dogs who love to walk….just not with me.


    1. Ohhhh denied by the dogs sandy lolol that stings!

      I’ve long since hated jeans shopping I must say motherhood has just exacerbated it since I have such little time to do things of this nature lol.

      Lol @ your hubby’s football team analogy 😂 god love ’em


  2. Well tight arse, you look hot in those jeans. I have no clue what a size 27 is?? When did this shit change?? I honestly get so nervous when I have to shop for the lower part of my body. The top part is fine. I can deal with that. But when I have to go shopping for ‘below my stomach’, that turns me into a sweaty mess. I struggle with jeans especially. That is why when I do buy a pair, they had better last me for 25 years. Because I can’t bear to go get more and look in those screwed up full length mirrors!! Another funny and true post Liv. x

    Liked by 1 person

    1. How have I only just seen this reply!! I seriously need my jeans to last the distance too. And frankly, I pretty much never wash them because I’m not willing to risk the doesn’t fit anymore shrink factor. Altho Im gonna confess… These size 27 (wtf???) jeans that she said would stretch.. Kind of have. I washed them yesterday 😳 that never happens lol. God forbid she was right!!!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Shopping for a decent pair of jeans that don’t make me look like a grandma, or cost $200, is as painful as shopping for bathers. Hate it. They either fit great at first but then stretch too much so you have a saggy bum despite working out regularly, or they don’t stretch at all and yep, you got a sexy muffin top… Just can’t win.


  4. This is precisely why I never wear jeans. It’s the trying on that’s the worst. Plus I’m built like shetland pony. I’m all torso with very short legs and they don’t make jeans like that. Thank god for dresses and tights I say!


  5. Bahahaha. The last time I bought jeans that weren’t from Target and cost more than $40 was when I bought my last pair of maternity jeans in 2008. Target jeans have served me well for all these years but maybe it’s time I put myself through the torture of jeans shopping once again. I’ll save up and put aside a full working day – maybe in 2018 😉


    1. Thanks for the tip!! I’ll check it out! I’m so bad at online shopping.. I’m forever scarred by an asos experience a few years back lol and I have a weird body! But I do love recommendations! I’m heading across to check out the website now 🙂


  6. All I can say is that there is too much choice! It used to be denim or black denim – now it’s lowrise; flare; boyfriend; slim fit; straight leg; etc etc before you even consider light or dark denim; then there’s distressed – god forbid I’d actually be able to decide and then try something on.


  7. I found the most amazing pair of ‘jean’s’ that I wear to death. They are like stretchy legging material and aren’t stiff or tight. Which suits me fine as normal jeans usually don’t fit over my booty and when they eventually do I have about a 5 hand gap between my lower back and the jeans.
    Loved this article it gave me a well needed laugh.
    Kate at Live Believe Relax


  8. Buying jeans is horrible! I’m happily at a stage now where I have found a cut/brand that I love and I just buy the same jeans over and over again when needed. Boring but no more jeans shopping, yay!

    Christine @ Adventure, Baby!


  9. “Once you’ve been lulled into a false sense of security by the accommodating elastic banded blissfulness of a stretchy front panel, you’re pretty much ruined for other jeans.” – haha!! This is me!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s