Tony's garage was full of jeans of all styles and sizes. In the late '70s in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York. We bought jeans in our neighbor's garage. I probably had enough money for Sergio Valente, but I wanted Jordache or Calvin Klein. The more important question at the time was, "Could I fit into a size 7/8 or 9/10?" My best friend Francine was 5'7" and weighed 115 pounds. She always fit into the size 7/8s and usually the 5/6s, which at the time, the 1970s, was the size to be. I, on the other hand, was 5'4" and weighed 115 pounds, and most of the time I fit into the 9/10s. Although at the time we wore our jeans so tight I could sometimes wear the 7/8s by laying flat on the bed or floor and using a metal hanger to pull up the zipper. Insanely enough, that was not an out-of-the-ordinary thing to do.
I'll never know the exact second, minute, day week or year the size of my pants, and the size of my body, started having something to do with the size of my life.