IT'S official, fitting into a pair of skinny jeans is actually bad for your health.

Yes, it's not often I find much cause to thank the Lord God above for bestowing me with tree trunk thighs and a booty the size of Brazil but in this instance I'm high fiving the big man for a job well done.

It's been all over the news this week that wearing jeans that look like they've been sprayed on with

a giant big paint gun could cause serious medical problems such as nerve and muscle damage

and can dissuade us from exercise, thus disguising weight gain and impending obesity although

I can't for the life of imagine how disguising even one pound of weight gain in such jeans is even

possible?

A woman in Australia recently had to actually be cut out of pair after her calves ballooned in size apparently.

Look, I'm not for a second making light of anyone who has suffered any real damage at the hands of a pair of skinny jeans but let's be brutally honest, the clue is in the title.

It pretty much stands to reason that to wear skinny jeans one would have to no doubt be skinny in the first place.

Yes of course if someone like me jumped off a wardrobe in order to squeeze into a pair of said jeans I would expect to have turned purple and passed out within 15 minutes because that's just inevitable.

But if you are thin enough to wear skinny jeans without offending the public then surely they would fit just fine?

I can't honestly say I've ever experienced any medical injuries with clothes although I did have a rather embarrassing experience in a clothes shop dressing room a few years back.

It was a summer's day and I was out for some retail therapy.

I had wandered into the shop and picked up about four or five different dresses to try on and off I went to the changing rooms.

There was quite a big queue but I thought better to wait and try them on first rather than just taking them home only to bring them back if they didn't suit.

So eventually I got a changing room and began to try on my potential new purchases.

Everything was going great as it was one of those very rare, almost magical occasions where everything you tried on fitted perfectly for once which made a nice change from the usual tantrum I had when they didn't fit because clearly shops were making their sizes smaller and had absolutely nothing to do with the kebab and chips I'd scoffed the previous weekend after the dancing.

Then, however, something happened and to this day I still can not for the life of me figure out how or even why it did?

The final dress on my rail did look a little on the small side but I thought I'd give it a go as I seemed to be on a successful role.

It was a struggle to get on granted and breathing was difficult but it took only a second or two of looking in the mirror to realise that this was most certainly not a good look and I wanted it off asap. This was where the problem began because even though I'd managed to get the dress on, it was not coming back off again.

I absolutely could not get it over my breasts and was heaving and rolling around that tiny dressing room like a woman possessed, with no success.

There was no chance of it going down over my bottom half so there I stood flushed, sweating and with an entire dress gathered round my middle like a rubber ring in the middle of a busy high street store running out of viable options.

I just couldn't understand how I'd got it on if it would come off again?

After five minutes or so I admitted defeat and pressed the button for help and it came in the form of a poor 18-year-girl who was without a shadow of a doubt all grown up after that day at work I can

assure you.

She gave it her best shot, God love her, and was practically swinging from that dress around my waist but alas it was not to be so in the end she agreed to cut me out of it.

When she picked up the now shredded dress from the floor I noticed the label was in fact two sizes smaller than what was on the hanger which explained why my blood had stopped pumping under my rib cage.

She was very discreet and sweet about the whole thing and simply took the dress away and said no more about it.

So there you go it's not just skinny jeans that are hazardous for your health but also having an ample bosom can be quite problematic too, although you'd think a humiliating incident like that would scar you for life but not me.

I instead refer to it as the glorious day I got into a size 14, after all no one ever asks how you got back out of it.