STANDING in the middle of Coopers Square in your underwear is the stuff of nightmares – and yet it is how I spent my Saturday lunchtime.
After the Mail featured a story about the Denim Surgery which was visiting the shopping centre at the weekend, I had been invited to have a go, and in the ongoing quest to find a well-fitting pair of jeans, I was more than happy to accept the offer.
At five foot nine and with the type of figure the magazines condescendingly refer to as ‘curvy’, I am one of the millions of women who struggle to find jeans which fit properly everywhere, and, possibly more importantly, actually look good.
The ‘ground-breaking’ surgery is supposed to help people just like me, by taking a 3D scan of a person’s body to determine precise measurements and give an accurate analysis of body shape, which will reveal exactly what type of jeans they should be wearing.
For many women, it sounds too good to be true. That was certainly the case for me.
It started well, if a little strangely, with a woman measuring my height and weight, before asking me to strip to my underwear and stand in a cubicle with my arms out. Mozart was piped into the pod as an American voice informed me that my entire body was being scanned. It was rather surreal, to say the least.
After quickly getting dressed, I was able to see the horrific results of the scan. A word to the wise, if you want to retain any element of self-esteem, never view yourself in this way.
I was given conflicting views on my body shape, as one person told me I was slightly triangular, and another woman said my figure was in proportion and I was an hourglass – helpful.
In terms of discovering what type of jeans I ought to be wearing, I’m still none the wiser, beyond the fact that the ones I had on were ‘fine’. I was told that shorter girls often wear heels to make their legs appear longer in jeans, and that petite women suit jeans with a higher waist. I’m not sure the advice was really intended for me, to be honest.
But it did not end there, as there was also a colour consultant for people to chat to. She took one look at me and said she saw ‘dark’, before informing me I had blue lips and a ‘wan’ complexion and should never wear light colours.
I left feeling down-hearted, unattractive and uninformed. Just the ticket for any girl in the modern world.
That said, several of the other women there seemed thrilled with the help they had been given, and staff manning the site said they had seen dozens of women throughout the day. Shopping centre manager Dave Chadfield said he was ‘delighted’ with the amount of people who had tried the service.
I’m sure some people immediately hit the shops armed with their newly acquired knowledge, but, sadly, I was not amongst them.