... other than the OBVIOUS and really annoying paparazzi problem? (Seriously, the way those guys surround my VW, flashes a-poppin, makes navigating the streets of New Hampshire SUPER problematic...)
...Okay, well, maybe nothing.
Last weekend I went shopping by myself, which is pretty much the only way I will EVER try clothes on. I love my friends, but I can't let them see the spiral of depression that going into a fitting room generates. I just can't. It's not only that it makes me so depressed that I can barely stand, it's also the humiliation from KNOWING that this shouldn't be ruining my moment, day, ENTIRE LIFE, and yet it is happening anyway.
You might be thinking, well, if that's true, why would you want to face the Mirror of Shame all alone?
BECAUSE. It makes me sad and then I get all snappy and I want my friends to keep loving me, which they would NOT do if they had to shop for pants with me.
But. I needed jeans.
I took ten different pairs of jeans into the fitting room. In, let's see, three different sizes and multiple cuts. Without describing the agony and fury, I can tell you this: One pair fit.
But this is when I started considering Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian, and here's why:
I have one. So do they, though theirs are a) famous and b) probably insured by Lloyd's of London (and OMG can you imagine calling up your insurance agent and telling her that you want to INSURE YOUR ASS? HAHAHAHAHAHAH never happen).
Here's what happens when you have a curvy-girl booty: PANTS. THEY DO NOT FIT RIGHT.
Because in order for said pants to fit over the ass, there needs to be roomage in the pantalones. And if there is enough roomage in the pantalones for the bodankadonk, then there is WAAAAAAY too much roomage in the waistband. Like, you could have a party in there. (Which makes me think of this, which is kind of NSFW.) There is also too much roomage in the leg area. And they're pretty much destined to be too long, because apparently you should only have this much ass if you're a foot taller than I am, which is problematic because I'm NOT a foot taller, and I don't need more tripping hazards in my life, thank you very much (speaking of which, JENNIFER LAWRENCE FALLING DOWN AT THE OSCARS YAY CLUMSY GIRLS!) .
Now. While I freely admit that I could whittle my entire self down a bit (ahem), the butt stays put no matter what size I am.
SO WHERE DOES JLO GET PANTS?
The people demand to know.
I suppose that the reality is that La Lopez has a tailor, but let's remember that unlike Ms Kardashian, who was born with cash, Jenny is from the BLOCK, yo. Which means she didn't always have a tailor.
And which I like to think means that, like me, she tried on a zillion pairs of jeans and finally had to settle on the ones that SORTA fit, fit-ish, until the day she became famous and celebrated for her, um, ass-etts.
I am not ever going to want to be more famous from behind than I am facing forward, y'all.
But I would KILL for pants that fit.