Once you find it, STOP looking for another

I know this picture looks like a still from an early '80s Betamax porn, but rest assured it's not.

No, unfortunately for you, this is just your editrix standing in front of her full-length mirror basking in the glory of a pair of super skinny black stovepipe jeans that FINALLY fits her in the waist, thighs, bah'um, and most difficult of all, her calves.

For months and months, I've dragged L, E, and S - yes, those letters are a coincidence - not just to every store in DC that sells black skinny jeans but to every changing room in every store in DC that sells black skinny jeans.

"Does it matter I have no circulation in my feet and I burst the seams at the calves?"

"Do these make my ass look too small?"

"When you say 'a little tight' do you mean Kate Winslet circa now tight or Beyoncé in 2002 tight?"

I must have gone through fifty or sixty pairs, and considering that most stores only have one, maybe two in stock that meet all the criteria (i.e. color, style, size, under $200), you can understand why L, E, and S seemed to go missing every time I dispatched a Saturday afternoon "I'll buy you Cosi if you'll come to Saks with me" text message.

My other two pairs of premium jeans - along with one in permanent retirement - are all Joe's Jeans brand jeans. Like your favorite cereal or that one guy you never quite got over, you know every time you have it, you're gonna love it. There's no need for "let me just take a bite and see" or "maybe he'll be less hot this time" -- they're tried and true and won't let you down.

Joe's Jeans are my Special K Red Berry and my...well, he knows his letter.

It's fitting, then, that the last pair of super skinny black stovepipe jeans I tried on, the one pair among all those many to make my ass feel Biel-tastic (compare at right), came from Joe's.

On clearance, no less.

Though I know this lesson, though I preach this lesson, it was tonight I finally learned this lesson: once you find the one, STOP looking.