I am a big fan of a particular consignment shop. I go there for most of my clothing, rarely spending over ten bucks on a shirt or fifteen dollars on jeans. If the jeans are excellent, I may spend up to twenty dollars on them. (Whoo-hoo, big spender!) So it came as somewhat of a surprise when I was in the mall last fall and actually bought real jeans from a real store and spent almost sixty bucks on each pair. But here’s the thing–I had purchased lots of Gap jeans from my aforementioned resale shop and they had fit like perfection, so I knew that these new buttery soft pairs would be worth it for years. And they were perfect. They felt like pajamas and made me look modern and sassy.
For about seventy-five minutes, that is.
That’s exactly how long it takes to break in a pair of new Gap jeans, I’ve found. After the 75th minute, the waist gives out and the whole situation sags about three inches south. Lucky for me, my pear-shaped patoot kept them from hitting the floor. But those things got so loose that I could pull them up and down without even using the zipper.
Wait, that was too much information. I apologize. Let’s move on.
At any rate, I finally couldn’t stand it anymore. Belts were useless and I was afraid to wear the pants, so I went to my last option–the sewing machine. Now, what I’m about to tell you here is not for the faint of sewing-hearted. There are real people who do this for a living; they are called tailors. Use them if you actually need your project to turn out well. But if you are hating an otherwise perfectly good pair of jeans, you can try this too. Just be careful and don’t sew through your finger.
I approximated that I needed two inches taken out of the waist. So I put in four tiny darts, right into the waistband. Here’s what it looks like from the inside.
Little tiny darts look better than one or two giant darts; trust me on this. The problem is that sewing through all that denim is tricky in such a tight spot. I broke two needles, the darts are sort of crooked, and I’m pretty sure that one of my darts is going to come apart on me, but I’m no perfectionist. None of this bothers me because my pants now fit. And they stay where they are supposed to stay, without looking all wonky. Well, if you come up really close to me and stare at my waist, you will be able to see the “tailoring.” So just keep your distance and we’ll all feel fine about this little project.
So, all you people out there who hate their saggy pants, get out the sewing machine and get cracking. You can do it. Just be brave. And have nothing to lose.
And again, please don’t sew through your finger. I get the heeby-jeebies just thinking about it.