Well, after bashing Freddy WR.UP pants, I thought it was only fair I grant the pants fair trial by actually giving them a go and trying them on. Besides, my curiosity about their magical butt lifting abilities had me gravitating towards the store (yes, so what if I am curious about that bootylicious life).
While the Spring 2016 collection offered some crazy options (tri-coloured ombre?!), I decided to go for a pair of classic denim pants.
While the Spring 2016 collection offered some crazy options (tri-coloured ombre?!), I decided to go for a pair of classic denim pants.
At first I was skeptical of trying on an XXS (I don't quite have that teenage physique anymore), but it turned out to be the right size. I don't have a photo of myself in the pants (I rather not have something like that saved for eternity on the Internet), so you'll have to bear with me as I explain.
The first thing I noticed was how incredibly tight the pants are. Luckily, it is made of a soft, stretchy fabric, so putting it on does not require breaking out into a sweat and swearing under your breath, but I was still surprised by how much it looked spray-painted onto my legs. While the waistline fit properly, I did have problems with length, as a significant portion of the pant bunched up around my ankles.
But of course, Freddys are not about the legs - they're about sculpting that derrière. I must admit, my behind did look rounder. I still found the stitching to be awkward, but I guess once you have the pants on, you are slightly blinded by the magnificence of your new spherical asset. Although, I'm tempted to say part of why you get an instant butt lift is because of how tight the pants are. With jeans glued to your skin, any curvature (no matter how slight) gets brought to light.
At the end of the day, I still prefer my normal rump. I felt a little try-hard in those pants, and I was definitely not a fan of how tight they were. I thought my legs looked like two unappetizing sausages (though the friends I was with told me my legs looked good). Besides, $180 for a pair of denim pants? I understand designer jeans can cost upwards of $300, but Freddys still carry a hefty price tag themselves.
So after all that, maybe I have saved some of you from the embarrassment of having to walk into a Freddy store to quell your own curiosity. Or, perhaps, I've actually enticed some of you to give your own booty a push up...
Image Source: Livify