As a man, jeans came in different sizes and styles, and they were categorized by numbers. That meant that Lo could try on one pair and from that moment on, so long as he didn't gain or lose weight, he could just pick up that same number combination and always have pants that would fit him.
Not so with women's jeans. Girls had vastly different styles from one brand to the next, so the low rise on this pair wasn't the same as the low rise on another brand, which meant Lo was trying on every pair he'd grabbed. One pair was pretty good, and one pair (same cut, allegedly) didn't even cover his round little butt. "This is nuts" he told Noah, shimmying out of one pair and into another. "I've seen my mom buy jeans before, but I didn't know it was so involved." This one was probably okay, but he wasn't sure. It felt... weird. Tight.
Stepping out of the dressing room, Lo held up his shirt so Noah could see the way they sat on his hips. "Does this look right?" he asked, turning in a circle so Noah could see the full effect. "They feel like they're gonna fall off my ass, but I hopped around and they didn't budge..."