Visible ass-crack is challenging enough

...so who wants to see an ostomy bag bulging out the top of my jeans, complimented by, say, some unruly northern pubes and on some days, a distended tummy?

Every several months I have a renewed optimism that I will venture out in the retail world and come across a pair of jeans I fall in love with. Said jeans will be high-rise without looking like they belong on my mom, they will hug my thighs and ass and keep my ostomy secure, will make me feel hot, will look good with any shoes, with any shirt, and will both suit me up for school and for a sexified night out.

Never happens. Despite year-old rumours than lowrise jeans would go out of style, the powers-that-be in the fashion world have disappointed.

Last night I got the jeans-buying bug. Convinced it was my night, I gave myself 1.5 hours at the mall to cruise the racks at Jacob, Guess, Buffalo, RW&Co, and Gap. No luck.

No jeans were found. Nothing worked. They were all low-rise, as usual.

Over the last several years, I have bought one - ONE - pair of jeans that make me feel hot. They were second-hand, and have since ripped all the way across the right knee and under my right ass-cheek. This summer I patched up the rip in the ass, and wore them a lot during this past semester at school. In December, on a day where there were respectable industry professionals visiting my class, the ass in my jeans tore open wide (i've gained weight recently too). I had to tie my sweater around my waist, which I think raised eyebrows, but only because I had chosen a t-shirt to wear underneath my sweater that had PAIN FOR PLEASURE emblazoned across the front. Of course I was more amused than embarrassed by this.

Ironically, my next two favourite pairs of jeans are ones that my boyfriend bought for himself, before he met me. He has recently relinquished ownership of the second pair to me; the first pair I had successfully claimed title to over a year ago. Possession is nine tenths of the law.

Obsessively, last night, I found myself surfing the websites of different jeans manufacturers. Mainly high-end. I have a hard time digesting the fact that I now want to find a pair of jeans that Oprah raved about 2 years ago and cost around $200. Me? But have always laughed at the concept of designer jeans! Shopping for them would violate my anti-consumerism sensibilities!

Well, apparently, my urge to overcome the challenge of finding myself an ostomy-friendly pair of jeans trumps my disdain for the high-end jeans world. High-rise jeans... here I come!