Not Every Jean Cradles The Apple-Bummed

Ever since J.Lo hit the red carpet, big booties have been all the rage. The immense popularity of hip-hop culture--which has always been fascinated with big butts--hasn't hurt either; R & B has managed to get in on the action too, propelling the bootylicious, bouncing Beyoncé to the top of the charts. It took a while for the trend to filter down to street level, but it finally hit Vancouver with a vengeance this summer. During August's sweltering heat, women of all ages and descriptions stripped down and paraded their enormous rumps around our sun-drenched city. Ass cleavage became an accessory to be proudly displayed, just as one would show off a beautiful pair of shoes. It was official: the starved-heroin-addict look was out; the bodacious bod was in.

Personally, I couldn't be more thrilled. As the owner of a fairly sizable rear end, I embraced this development and did a little catwalking of my own. But when it came time to shop for fall denim, my old body-image dread returned. Would there be jeans that fit me or would they still be designed for stick-thin women who look like prepubescent boys? Would the skinny salesgirls gloat as I struggled to get the pants over my hips? Would I return home, empty-handed, and sulk for days? I decided to brave the wilds of fall jean shopping so that other apple-bummed women wouldn't have to. Taking three full-figured friends with me for support, I set out to try on every line of high-end jeans available and find the most booty-friendly pair to be had.

We combed the city, hitting a range of boutiques. Frustration abounded. One salesgirl looked me up and down, and announced smugly that she didn't carry sizes over 28--as if 120 pounds is shockingly obese. And some of the most chic lines--apparently not having heard about the rump revolution--were still pumping out pants that catered to the anorexic would-be model.

James, among the buzz brands for fall (retailing at approximately $220), seemed to be designed for Gwyneth Paltrow look-alikes. My cheeks were literally falling out the back, and they were so unflattering that they earned a measly C-- from my shopping posse. Paper Denim & Cloth ($250) were similarly disappointing. I admired the classic style and worn look of the patches and frayed seams, but the bum had a flattening effect and the thighs were too tight. The line was written off with a B--. The i collection, which I hear is huge in Montreal right now, is definitely not for big back yards; the fit is frumpy and the exaggerated whiskering on the upper thighs highlights any riding-up that may be taking place. Diesel's Hipper ($250) is to be avoided at all costs, somehow managing to transform curves into boxy bulk. Diesel's Katu model ($265) was better, getting a B+ from the peanut gallery, but its unbearably tight waist rendered it impractical. Surprisingly, the priciest pair turned out to be the least attractive: Notify jeans, retailing at a whopping $385, have a dangerously low, unappealing cut. Despite unique grainy texturing, gorgeous diagonal side pockets, and beautiful stitching, the í¼berexpensive item sat at D-- on the bum scale.

I wasn't the only one having difficulties. In the change room at Aritzia (1110 Robson Street), we met an attractive, hourglass-shaped woman in her 20s who appeared close to tears; she was trying on her umpteenth pair of jeans and was thoroughly disheartened. Intrigued by our project, she tried on the jeans I suggested and went home with the same pair of 7s that were among my favourites. (Aritzia's carry-over styles of 7s [Dojo, $255] and Citizens of Humanity [Ingrid, $208] were numbers two and three on my wish list.) The Juicy flares we tried on there were also adequate. Elsewhere, we found Jean Paul Da'mage, Rock & Republic, and Chip n' Peppers to be generally flattering.

Finally, our booty brigade arrived at FAB (2177 West 4th Avenue), which is, hands down, the best spot in town to shop for denim. Their selection is unparalleled, their taste is impeccable, and one of their sales associates, Paula, is an expert on designer labels. What's more, all the staff share a warm, friendly manner that minimizes the inevitable trauma associated with seeing your ass poking out in a giant three-way mirror. It was there that I found my perfect, A+ pair of jeans. Big Star's boot-cut, five-pocket, medium-wash jeans ($185; available only at FAB) are nothing short of exquisite: low-cut but not frighteningly so; slight, tasteful whiskering; a subtle flare. Best of all: they give you premium ghetto booty.

So if you are a Ms. Fat Booty type and are tormented by the thought of denim shopping, do yourself a favour: go to FAB and let them pick you out a knockout pair of jeans. Then you can get back to shaking your tailfeathers and profiling your newly trendy ass.