Size Matters
The downward evolution of sizes illustrates the extent to which retailers, apparel manufacturers, and designers are conforming to American women's obsession with wanting to be thin -- even if it's only in their minds.
I noticed that this was happening on my last shopping trip. I went into Banana with my friend Katie who was trying to sell me on a pair of jeans that she insisted would make my butt look amazing. She handed me a 4 and pointed me in the direction of the dressing room.
"Um, sweetheart. I appreciate the compliment, but I need a 6."
"Shut up and take the 4. Here, take a 2 also."
"I swear, I'm not being that girl, I just really wear a 6."
"You wear a 4."
I took the 4 to humor her and planned to shuffle out of the dressing room with the jeans stuck somewhere around mid-thigh in order to prove my point that 4's were for sophomore year of college when I thought I wanted to do dance team and ran everyday.
Lo and behold, they fit.
Loosely.
While I jumped back into my size 8 Gap low-rise, I wondered if this downsizing of tags was occuring universally, or if Banana was just catering to a demographic that had been in abudance at Wake: the skinny obsessed. I don't shop enough to know if this has been pervasive throughout the malls, but apparently the B. Globe confirms 'tis.
Meanwhile, if you happen to be going bridesmaids dress shopping, prepare for a tag shock of the reverse. Bridesmaid dresses are still sized based on 1950s dress patterns. My size 8 friend nearly cried when she marked a 16 down on her form, until she peeked over at mine and saw I was a size 12 in the eyes of the poofy taffeta beholders.
Why does the number matter so much to us? (I assume that this post will get a brief glance over from my male consituency, and only those with the double X will remain to read.) When I see women who look like they're squeezed into their pants like sausage, and I wonder if they have to hold their breath the entire day, I wish I could just tell them how much skinnier they would look if they just bought a bigger pair of pants that flattered their shape better. But apparently to some women wearing the right number is more important than, say, sufficient respiration.
One thing I can't help but wonder about with this downsizing - what are the real size 0's left to do? Yes, I realize everyone who weights over 120 pounds probably is thinking to themselves "screw them skinnyminnies," but really - if a size 0 is really the measurements of a size 4 now, what is the real size 0 wearing? A double 00? A negative 2? I assume I need not point out the irony of our clothing sizes headed towards the negative numbers as our waistlines head anywhere but there.
And, because I never fully take off my health promotion hat, what does this say about our willingess to accept personal responsiblity for our nation's bulging waistline? Rather than accept the fact that we don't fit in our clothes anymore and actually, gasp, doing something about it, we'll just let the clothing companies take out a few stitches and make things a little more roomier for us? Sounds like a plan.
Next up, elastic waistbands at Banana?
I noticed that this was happening on my last shopping trip. I went into Banana with my friend Katie who was trying to sell me on a pair of jeans that she insisted would make my butt look amazing. She handed me a 4 and pointed me in the direction of the dressing room.
"Um, sweetheart. I appreciate the compliment, but I need a 6."
"Shut up and take the 4. Here, take a 2 also."
"I swear, I'm not being that girl, I just really wear a 6."
"You wear a 4."
I took the 4 to humor her and planned to shuffle out of the dressing room with the jeans stuck somewhere around mid-thigh in order to prove my point that 4's were for sophomore year of college when I thought I wanted to do dance team and ran everyday.
Lo and behold, they fit.
Loosely.
While I jumped back into my size 8 Gap low-rise, I wondered if this downsizing of tags was occuring universally, or if Banana was just catering to a demographic that had been in abudance at Wake: the skinny obsessed. I don't shop enough to know if this has been pervasive throughout the malls, but apparently the B. Globe confirms 'tis.
Meanwhile, if you happen to be going bridesmaids dress shopping, prepare for a tag shock of the reverse. Bridesmaid dresses are still sized based on 1950s dress patterns. My size 8 friend nearly cried when she marked a 16 down on her form, until she peeked over at mine and saw I was a size 12 in the eyes of the poofy taffeta beholders.
Why does the number matter so much to us? (I assume that this post will get a brief glance over from my male consituency, and only those with the double X will remain to read.) When I see women who look like they're squeezed into their pants like sausage, and I wonder if they have to hold their breath the entire day, I wish I could just tell them how much skinnier they would look if they just bought a bigger pair of pants that flattered their shape better. But apparently to some women wearing the right number is more important than, say, sufficient respiration.
One thing I can't help but wonder about with this downsizing - what are the real size 0's left to do? Yes, I realize everyone who weights over 120 pounds probably is thinking to themselves "screw them skinnyminnies," but really - if a size 0 is really the measurements of a size 4 now, what is the real size 0 wearing? A double 00? A negative 2? I assume I need not point out the irony of our clothing sizes headed towards the negative numbers as our waistlines head anywhere but there.
And, because I never fully take off my health promotion hat, what does this say about our willingess to accept personal responsiblity for our nation's bulging waistline? Rather than accept the fact that we don't fit in our clothes anymore and actually, gasp, doing something about it, we'll just let the clothing companies take out a few stitches and make things a little more roomier for us? Sounds like a plan.
Next up, elastic waistbands at Banana?