Yesterday I attended the funeral of my favorite pair of jeans.

I made my way down the steps to the trash cans behind my apartment building with my jeans lifeless in my arms. As I lifted the metal lid and placed the jeans on top of some trash bags I wondered if my neighbors would think I was nuts if I said a few words.

My Svobodas were a very special pair of jeans. They came from a family of denim designed specifically for PSP’s (Plus Size Princesses) and this pair did everything that jeans should. Not only did they elongate my legs but they enhanced my, um… assets. My Svobodas and I have been through a lot together; casual Fridays at work, first dates, nights out with the girls… I could always count on them to make me feel good. Sadly, these jeans fell victim to an untimely death at the hands of… Chub Rub.

Chub Rub: discomfort caused by chub (fat) rubbing together.

As I looked down into the garbage can at my dearly departed denim, it started to mist. I wanted to shake my fist at the grey sky and cry out “Chuuuuub Ruuuuuub!!!”

Chub Rub has been an arch Nemesis of mine for many years. Mostly attacking when my bare legs rub together under a dress or skirt. This friction can result in anything from slight skin irritation to burning and/or blisters. I thought I’d won when I began to find ways to avoid chub rub skin irritation while wearing skirts and dresses (I’ll write about that later). My victories were short lived though, because Chub Rub has always had the last word when it came to my jeans.

I’ve laid many pairs of jeans to rest because of this silent killer.

With every step I take, each pair of my jeans will slowly wear thin in the space where my thighs touch and eventually the thin fabric will rip, fray and ultimately become a hole. The Svobodas were a higher quality, so they did last a lot longer, but it was still the same fate. For this reason I try not get too attached to any pair of jeans, no matter how great they are.

Of course, there is reincarnation for denim. I’ve converted many torn jeans into shorts or denim skirts, I’ve even sewn one pair into a shoulder bag. But, no matter how clever I am with their remains, my jeans are never as amazing as when they were in their original form.

This may sound terrible, but when I am pushing my legs together on the inner thigh machine at the gym, I sometimes wonder how much easier it could be to get a little liposuction done to rid myself of this problem. At the rate that I’m running through jeans, it may actually save me some money….