middle-finger-poster-flag-6185-pDon’t bother reading this.  tl;dr: I am fat and pants are stupid.  Okay?   Just stop here.

I have, as anyone who has been around here before is already aware, been effectively out of work since October and genuinely out of work since January 4th.  Before anyone bothers to tell me: I am aware that I should probably be getting some exercise, and the fact that I’m struggling with depression right now is not a fucking excuse.(*)  But one way or another I have spent the last several months as a full-time writer, or at least a full-time-sit-in-front-of-the-fucking-computer person.

Also a problem: I have been hungry constantly for most of that time.  Like, all day, every day.  That might be a side effect of my medication; I don’t know.  But it’s a fact:  I’m ravenous.  Constantly.  I could eat six meals a day and not even blink at it.

You may have an idea where this is going already.

For most of the last several years I have been wearing 38 x 29 jeans.  Specifically, I’ve been wearing Wal-Mart’s Faded Glory brand.  In fact, that’s virtually the only reason I’ll set foot in a Wal-Mart.  Why?  I can find 29-inch inseams at Wal-Mart.  They’re fucking rare, I tell you.  Inseams like to be in even numbers, and 38 x 28 jeans don’t fucking exist.

Also: I wear jeans when I’m not working.  Only and solely jeans, carpenter cut, because they have the side pocket for my phone and are roomier.  I loathe khakis and would no more wear them when I wasn’t at work than I would wear a tuxedo.  I also tend to wear jeans for a couple of days in a row unless I spill something on them.  Go ahead, call me a slob; I don’t give a fuck.  They’re more fuckin’ comfortable on day 3 and nobody needs to do that much damn laundry.

ANYWAY.  Somehow, a week or two ago, I took off a pair of 38 x 29 jeans at the end of the day before going to bed, because they were getting musty, and in the morning no other pair of jeans in the house— and I own several pairs of identical jeans— would button.  Cursing and gnashing my teeth, I put the musty jeans back on and went to Wal-Mart.

Wal-Mart didn’t have a fucking thing in a 29 inseam.  In fact, they only had one pair of pants that were 40 x 30.  So, after hitting a second Wal-Mart, I went into full “fuck it” mode and bought one pair at 40 x 30 and one pair at 42 x 30.  Note that other than the measurements they were the same fucking pants, same brand, same cut.

The 40s only barely fit, when I’d been wearing 38s when I bought the 40s.  That wasn’t the worst thing, though.

This, somehow, is what a 30 inch inseam looks like– on BOTH pants– when a 29 inch inseam fits me perfectly:


Those motherfuckers are cuffed by at least three inches.  Walking in these in the damn house without shoes on is fucking ridiculous.  And it’s both pairs, meaning that mislabeling seems highly fucking unlikely.  Again: same brand, same cut.  The 40s fit eventually but the 42s were a little more comfortable, and fuck it, I don’t mind my pants a little baggy.  I am too old to give a fuck about the fact that I’m also probably too old to wear my pants the way I do.

But I cannot deal with cuffing my pants like I’m nine and wearing my older brother’s hand-me-downs.  And I’ll be fucked if I’m taking Wal-Mart jeans to a goddamn tailor, either.

I did something that no one should ever have to do: after searching around on Amazon a bit I ordered some 42 x 29 carpenter jeans.  Now, these were Lees, not the Faded Glory pants, but again: a 38 inch waist fit me last fucking week.  42s should be a damn no-brainer.

They just showed up.  It took me ten minutes of truly asstastic contorting and fuckery to get the goddamned things buttoned– yet now that they are the pants don’t feel tight, which doesn’t make any fucking sense at all.  Also, I’m still using the same belt and the same underwear size I’ve been wearing for forever.  My boxers claim to be a 34 inch waist.  My belt is, I think, a 44-incher.  Yet my pants have expanded by six inches overnight.

Oh oh oh and also these do have the side pocket typical to carpenter jeans, but it’s too small for my fucking phone.  I have hope that it’ll stretch out but right now nothing doing.

Here’s the new inseam:


Fucking perfect, in other words, despite supposedly only being an inch shorter than the other two pairs of jeans.

There is, by the way, no way that I’m aware of to increase my waist size any longer without giving up and going Full Sweatpants, because 44 x 29 does not appear to be a thing that exists anywhere.  I am terrified of what’s going to happen once I have to put on a pair of dress pants for an interview.

Fuck pants, is what I’m saying here.

(*) And before anybody jumps my ass for that:  It isn’t an excuse for me.  And I’m talking about me, not you.

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Luther M. Siler

Teacher, writer of words, and local curmudgeon. Enthusiastically profane. Occasionally hostile.

10 thoughts on “IRATE CLOTHING RANT

  1. Ha! That’s why, when I clothes shop (which is very, very rare), I have to try on everything. I can buy two items that are identical except for color, and one will fit while the other doesn’t. I won’t tell you what size I normally take, but the clothes I bring home vary widely in the sizes that I actually purchase.


  2. Walmart is stupid. Someone at their corporate headquarters decided that, for example, no one in New Mexico needs a winter coat because New Mexico is a desert and deserts are hot all year long. So local stores carry nothing suitable for temperatures below 40 F even though we get bitterly cold winters here. Then someone at Walmart’s corporate headquarters decided that, since every person in New Mexico is short, there’s no need for stores here to carry pants with anything BUT a 29-inch inseam. (They throw in a few 30s just to be funny, and on rare occasion a 32 finds its way here by mistake. Of course no one living in New Mexico wears a 34… Tall people live in the Midwest, especially the northern Midwest, but not here. EVER.)


  3. maybe they’ve started the number fuckery they’ve instituted over the years in the women’s department – so that what used to be a size 8 is now a size 4 because someone decided that size 8 was faaaaaat and o noes! or reference, I started buying my own clothes when I started earning a paycheck, at age 14. according to my working papers, I was at that time 5-2, 105 lbs. I was a size four. I am now 5-7, 130lbs, and the mother of two children… and a size four.

    so maybe you need to start buying 37x28s, and they’ll fit perfectly.


  4. OH GOD this is waaaay too familiar. I go through this all the time, and sometimes, I just give up and by the pants and then cuff them…or peg them…like, 80s style peg them.

    I pretty much stalk the pants and jeans at TARGET. I’ve pretty much discovered that the wrangler carpenter pants (Yeah, I use the extra pocket for the same thing you do) work best. Though I still have to get the next waist size up so my thighs fit correctly. But Oh yeah…nothing quite like getting a 30 inch inseam and ACTUALLY getting 30 inches.

    The trick, I’ve found is to get there towards opening or right after they’ve restocked the shelves. And then I buy like 2 or 3, if money allows. I splurged the last time I went, got two pairs of jeans and 3 pairs of the cargo Khakis in different colors (I wear them for work). But yeah. It was a dance of joy.

    I’m glad that I’m not the only guy who has this issue.

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  5. I’ve found that sizing is incredibly inconsistent everywhere. I can wear a 14 in one brand, but have to buy an 18 in another. But, if they’re a different style or cut, then who the fuck knows what size I wear. Clothes shopping, particularly for jeans, is the most infuriating thing I have to do as an adult.


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