Jean Shopping
On Saturday I went to one of my favourite places in the world. I always find what I want, or they custom-tailor something that is almost right to fit. It's amazing, especially considering that I normally feel that pants shopping is the worst of all the kinds of shopping. Let's just say that my body does not conform to the North American ideal of size and shape.
Except at Sargent Avenue Blue Jeans. Shopping there is like nothing I have ever experienced anywhere.
First of all, if you look at that link, you'll notice that it isn't anything special from the outside. In fact, the first time I went there I thought I might be walking into a mafia den (which, let's be honest, it may still well be) - there are no windows, bars on all doors and (covered) windows, and it's in a bit of a dodgy area. When you get inside, you are greeted with pile upon pile of every imaginable make and model of blue jeans. (Full disclosure: I snapped these pictures surreptitiously with my phone. Is that wrong?)
If you're like me and your heart starts to simultaneously race and sink with despair at the sight of a wall of jeans in slightly different washes and cuts at a store like bluenotes (that's where I bought my jeans before I discovered this mecca of pants goodness), this might seem daunting.
But here is where the best part comes in. There are two women who work there, who have worked there since Jake started getting his jeans there as a kid. From the moment you walk in the door, it goes like this:
me: Hi, I need some new jeans.
her: What are you wearing now? (lifts up my jacket to look at my butt) Ok. 30? Skinny? Silver? What wash you want? I bring you, you try on. Go to the changing room.
(I willingly obey and go to the teeniest change room you've ever seen. There is a chair, covered in denim of course, a hook a mirror and me - who barely fits. Jeans start flying over the door).
her: Here. You try these. Ones you don't like, put over the door.
me, in the first pair: What do you think?
her: No, no good. Go back.
me, in the second pair: These ones don't fit in the waist the way I'd like.
her: You wear a belt. All the grandma's, they wear a belt, keep their waists firm! That's how they do it! These are ok. I get you more. (She adds about 10 pairs to the 15 I already have).
(I try on jeans till I find one I like)
her: Good! How long you want? (she pins them and brings me 5 more pairs that are similar to the ones I've just tried on, in different washes).
me: I also like these.
her: good! Fit good in the bum. You are a Mavi and Silver girl. Mavi and Silver, they fit nice on the bum. How long you want?
(While I change back into the jeans I came in wearing, she hems the legs of both sets of jeans, irons the new cuffs, and puts them at the cash. The whole process took 25 minutes.)
This is one of the women with the sewing machine they use - a classic that probably weighs about 100 lbs and is at least 70 years old. They operate that thing like it is part of their body.
As I was typing out the conversation above, I realized that maybe some people wouldn't like shopping like that. I freakin' LOVE IT. I wish that there was a store for every clothing genre where someone would throw me things to try on and tell me honestly when it looked good or not. It is the way shopping should be!
So if you live in Winnipeg, go there. It is amazing. If you come to visit me, and want jeans, I'll take you there. It really is on the top 15 or so reasons I love living here.
Except at Sargent Avenue Blue Jeans. Shopping there is like nothing I have ever experienced anywhere.
First of all, if you look at that link, you'll notice that it isn't anything special from the outside. In fact, the first time I went there I thought I might be walking into a mafia den (which, let's be honest, it may still well be) - there are no windows, bars on all doors and (covered) windows, and it's in a bit of a dodgy area. When you get inside, you are greeted with pile upon pile of every imaginable make and model of blue jeans. (Full disclosure: I snapped these pictures surreptitiously with my phone. Is that wrong?)
But here is where the best part comes in. There are two women who work there, who have worked there since Jake started getting his jeans there as a kid. From the moment you walk in the door, it goes like this:
me: Hi, I need some new jeans.
her: What are you wearing now? (lifts up my jacket to look at my butt) Ok. 30? Skinny? Silver? What wash you want? I bring you, you try on. Go to the changing room.
(I willingly obey and go to the teeniest change room you've ever seen. There is a chair, covered in denim of course, a hook a mirror and me - who barely fits. Jeans start flying over the door).
her: Here. You try these. Ones you don't like, put over the door.
me, in the first pair: What do you think?
her: No, no good. Go back.
me, in the second pair: These ones don't fit in the waist the way I'd like.
her: You wear a belt. All the grandma's, they wear a belt, keep their waists firm! That's how they do it! These are ok. I get you more. (She adds about 10 pairs to the 15 I already have).
(I try on jeans till I find one I like)
her: Good! How long you want? (she pins them and brings me 5 more pairs that are similar to the ones I've just tried on, in different washes).
me: I also like these.
her: good! Fit good in the bum. You are a Mavi and Silver girl. Mavi and Silver, they fit nice on the bum. How long you want?
(While I change back into the jeans I came in wearing, she hems the legs of both sets of jeans, irons the new cuffs, and puts them at the cash. The whole process took 25 minutes.)
This is one of the women with the sewing machine they use - a classic that probably weighs about 100 lbs and is at least 70 years old. They operate that thing like it is part of their body.
As I was typing out the conversation above, I realized that maybe some people wouldn't like shopping like that. I freakin' LOVE IT. I wish that there was a store for every clothing genre where someone would throw me things to try on and tell me honestly when it looked good or not. It is the way shopping should be!
So if you live in Winnipeg, go there. It is amazing. If you come to visit me, and want jeans, I'll take you there. It really is on the top 15 or so reasons I love living here.
Sargent Blue Jeans is where I got towed, screaming, every summer just before school started. I see it's no less painful an experience now.
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