No two-steppin' here

A few weeks ago I won a Kohl's gift card through work. Given my run of bad luck when it comes to clothes shopping, I wasn't jumping up and down for joy. I suspect a Home Depot card would have gotten a stronger response, afterall I could have gotten ant spray, caulk, a 2 by 4, or something as exciting.

However, today Cynical and I decided to venture to Kohl's and put the card to good use. I half-heartedly sauntered over to the women's section and thumbed through a few racks. I had decided I needed some jeans and wasn't relishing in the fact that I was going to have to try them on until my legs were raw and I sat on the floor of the dressing room cursing my heritage of big hips and ample thighs. However, I snagged a few pair and went into the dressing room, hoping for the best, the best being that the lady in the next room wouldn't hear me sobbing.

The stars must have been aligned or perhaps the lighting was poor enough to trick me, but I found a pair on the second try. They weren't boot cut, they weren't straight leg, they weren't too low waisted and they didn't cover my belly button. What had I done to deserve this? Was this some cosmic payback for not using those free return address stickers sent to me by St. Jude's Hospital?

I grabbed my jeans and went to the front of the store to rejoice, do a dance and raise them to the clothing gods. Along the way I found a sweater and a funky necklace, further adding to my glee. (It's good clean living, I decided, it's a reward for good clean living.)

Cynical and I met up each loaded down with our finds. I presented my new jeans, expecting him to bask in the glory that is a good fit. Instead, he frowned slightly and said, "I don't think I'd get those. They look country-western."

I stood there glaring at the man who had just shot down my hopes of having a good pair of jeans. When I inquired as to why he thought these belonged on Dolly Parton rather than me, he explained that the stitching was his cue.

"The stitching. . . it's not country/western, it's the new thing. It's an 80s throwback," I explained trying to translate the language that is fashion to a novice.

"They are country/western," he stood his ground.

I immediately decided that a second opinion was in order, whipping out my cell phone for an expert analysis.

"Fashionista, this is Ragged, and there is a bit of a crisis here," I explained when she answered. "I know you are on vacation, spending quality time with your family, but I am sure, once I explain, you will understand the urgency of my call."

I detailed the situation, while Cynical hid from me, realizing the error of his assumption and comments.

After she quit laughing hysterically and a few gulps of Diet Coke later, she explained, "All the cool kids are wearing them. I have a pair. Trust me, would I be caught dead in something that could be considered country/western."

Enough said, I made my way to the cash register.

As we checked out, I heard him humming "Boot Scootin' Boogie." I am not sure if I should be more upset that he challenged my fashion choices or that he knows the entire song.

He also mumbled something about the necklace being too orange, but I disregarded this comment, as I am not certain his clothes always match.