The saga of the reluctant pair of jeans

Heart breaking moment this morning. Beautiful pair of Next denims. With coarse thread detailing on back pockets. And contrast seams. The sort that you need a stetson and a pair of boots with spurs to complete the look. Lying in the cupboard for a couple of years since no occasion ever felt perfect enough for them to be worn to. This morning by strange fluke or mischance they happened to land straight within eyeshot and I was in a brave benevolent mood. So I took them out.

The husband snorted. Meanly. I should have taken that as a warning. The sort that animals give before there’s going to be an earthquake. You know bark wildly and run scared, tail between their legs. But, me being me, have never learnt to read earthly signs of doom and proceeded to do my changing with the man in the room. As any woman knows. This in itself is an act of bravery. In the first flush of lust, this could take an additional fifteen minutes into getting ready time. When you’re eighteen years past the first flush of lust, you just avert your eyes and get hopping and wriggling into your clothes hoping the other isnt noticing your flesh jiggling.

The damn pant stopped at my knees. I say stopped. I gasped in surprise. It just stopped like a mule and refused to go up further. I looked at my thighs in surprise. Sure they looked ‘healthier’ to me than they’ve looked in a while, but surely I was not that healthy that a pair of denims bought a couple of years ago couldnt get past them knees?

I tried again. I did a little hop and wriggle and the kind that Sridevi patented in Nagina. By which time the husband was thrashing around on the floor in what could only be termed a laughing fit of sorts. Which I sternly and pointedly ignored. And then I gave up all pretence and struggle and sleekly slipped into old favourite D&Gs, them being eminently slip into able considering their lycra has truly and completely given way.

And picked up my ego from the floor whence I was writhing like a snake woman a couple of minutes ago and proceeded to bin it. If I may say so, I looked smashing in them D&Gs. Rubens would have made an oil painting of me.


About Kiran Manral

Kiran Manral published her first book, The Reluctant Detective in 2011. Since then, she has published nine books across genres till date. Her books include romance and chicklit with Once Upon A Crush (2014), All Aboard (2015), Saving Maya (2017); horror with The Face at the Window (2016), psychological thriller with Missing, Presumed Dead (2018) and nonfiction with Karmic Kids (2015), A Boy’s Guide to Growing Up (2016) and True Love Stories (2017). Her short stories have been published on Juggernaut, in magazines like Verve and Cosmopolitan, and have been part of anthologies like Chicken Soup for the Soul, Have a Safe Journey (2017) and Boo (2017). Her articles and columns have appeared in the Times of India, Tehelka, DNA, Yowoto, Shethepeople, New Woman, Femina, Verve, Elle, Cosmopolitan, Conde Nast Traveller, DB Post, The Telegraph, the Asian Age, iDiva, TheDailyO and more. She was shortlisted for the Femina Women Awards 2017 for Literary Contribution. In 2018, she was awarded the International Women's Day award for literary excellence by ICUNR and Ministry of Women and Children, Government of India. She is a TEDx speaker and a mentor with Vital Voices Global Mentoring Walk 2017.
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12 Responses to The saga of the reluctant pair of jeans

  1. Gayatri says:

    OMG I totally feel your pain. Have a black strapless dress I bought for a birthday when I was fitter two years ago. I didn’t wear it then for it wasn’t the birthday I imagined it would be!
    And it hangs unused but tried on several times…and of course I look like Bianca Castafiora when I try it on now…but it still inspires me each time I look at it. Bet I’ll give up in a couple more years…! :-‘(


  2. Suki says:

    Sharrup. You look smashing in whatever you wear. No one’s peering at your size labels.


  3. Shobana says:

    When beautiful women like you start complaining, think about what I would have to complain about…tsk, tsk. Go to the mirror and repeat, “I am very beautiful and I love me”. Go on.


  4. Gigi says:

    You are totally scaring me. I’m due in December, if you are torturing yourself with what to wear, imagine my plight?! (For the record, I was never skinny, always chubby)


  5. chandni says:

    awwwwwwwwww I am sure u’ll look dapper in anything u wear. Honest!

    Chuck those old ones, time to buy new stuff 🙂


  6. dipali says:

    Amusing the spouse while changing should be avoided, methinks:)
    The poor jeans were not destined for you(:


  7. Roop Rai says:


    why didn’t i find your blog earlier?


  8. Dottie says:

    oh Kiran, don’t you know. Jeans tend to shrink over time. That’s what happened, babe. Blame the jeanns.

    Yup. And the aliens too.


  9. i’m with dottie. jeans shrink you know. ignore ’em. we’re just rubenesque. thats it.

    Huh, look who’s talking. Skinny minny you.


  10. Abha says:

    we like the jeans shrinking bit women are talking about here!

    and if jeans can, all other clothes can too! :p



    Yup, its a conspiracy by aliens to shrink our clothes up so we’re left with nothing to wear.


  11. Priyanka says:

    Hi Kiran,
    Couldn’t find your email id anywhere so had to ask here. Am looking for a fake Bottega Veneta. I had been to Colaba Causeway a couple of weeks back but couldn’t find any shop that was selling any fakes! Any idea where to get one there? Some of the by-lanes? I remember that you had posted that Colaba Causeway was the ideal place for such things on your shopaholics anonymous blog. Help!!


  12. Aathira says:

    I have a pair of brown trousers which sit snug in my closet, I hate the fact that I want to wear it but I do not want to even try it and feel sad ( all over again)

    I so need to lose weight!


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