New jeans are like new friends; you either get to know them in a very methodical fashion, building up a sense of trust and well-being together, or you're best friends for life after an hour.

Of course, there's always the third option, which is to be innocently minding your own business when your new jeans decide that they hate you and then they cut off all circulation to your legs, making you woozy every time you stand up, and making you want to throw up when you go out to a nice restaurant with your family to celebrate your older brother's coming of age. They are not conducive at all to perform odd acts of espionage on that neighbor across the street who uses a different car every day to go to work, and trims their hedges with kitchen scissors.

Fuck you, new jeans.

Fuck you.

By the way they're totally cute in a dark denim, and they're stretch, with just a little bit of fade {it's overdone but they're really cute} and they make my ass look positively adorable.