True Religion

Shopping for jeans ranks right up there for me with working on a Saturday or having a root canal done without sedation. Shopping for jeans in a bustling, overwhelming environment like Saks or Bloomingdales gives me serious heart palpitations. Needless to say, I don’t go jeans shopping very often and when I do, I like to buy a few pairs so that I don’t have to torture myself again anytime soon.
Unfortunately, a few pairs of True Religions are more than my monthly New York rent, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I have never gone wrong with this brand.
From the second I walked into the True Religion boutique store on Third Avenue on a yucky, rainy day, I knew I was in good hands. Haylie, the absolutely divine British saleswoman, instantly took me under her wing, reassuring me that there were perfect fits for my figure. Never pushy or preying, and without an ounce of attitude, she pleasantly presented me with several options, asking for my preferences and trying to get a sense of my personal taste.
But make no mistake — despite her lovely, sweet disposition, this woman is a hard core jeans-​sommelier, knowing each style of these jeans inside and out. She knew instantly which ones would be flattering on me, what styles to go up or down a size, and never tried to force a pair on me that I didn’t like or that didn’t look absolutely perfect. She was patient and gracious as she found one pair after another for me to try on, didn’t stalk my door, but was available when I needed a size swap or an opinion, and was genuine and honest in her assessments of what looked good and what didn’t, all while keeping my ego in tact.
I’ve never had a personal jeans consultant before, but if I were hiring, I would snatch Haylie and her lovely lilt right off the market and keep her all to myself. Even after all her work and time, there was no pressure or heavy sales pitch to close the deal. And she didn’t need to. The jeans she helped pick out in the styles, colors, and fits that I liked, conformed to my body so perfectly that there was not a doubt that I needed to own them — immediately. All three pairs. And a super cute thermal shirt. I walked out feeling not only a sense of relief that my dreaded jeans mission had been completed in the most unpainful of ways, but that at a moment’s notice, I would actually have three perfect pairs of jeans to choose from that all made me feel and look good. If only my landlord would find that as priceless as I do.