Dear Jeans,
I won’t beat around the bush; I am breaking up with you.
Let’s face it, you and my ass have simply grown apart. And although I admit that my ass did most of aforementioned growing, I still think you could have at least tried to meet me halfway. Instead you just ooze off my ass or you give me a camel toe. We used to be so close! We spent every day together for so many years! Didn’t any of that mean anything to you?
You betrayed our love, you abandoned me. You decided to follow the norm, you decided to bow down the The Man™!
And we all know The Man™ refuses to make you to fit a woman like me. When it comes to a woman like me, you have ONE job: to make me feel fat and dowdy! I’m not fat and I’m only dowdy when I have you draped on my ass! The way you’re cut is meant for young ladies with perfect bodies. You’re there to remind me I am old and uncool.
I’m done! I’ve been seeing Leggings behind your back and I think it’s time to move on and bid you adieu…
So yeah…
Buh-bye.
Anxiolithic 