Why finding the right size is harder than winning the lottery.
At the root of all fashion problems lies this fact; even if clothes are “your size” they are likely not to fit. One day you could be a size zero and the next day a size 12. With all the different designers and companies it is becoming increasingly difficult to find a specific size that fits your body type. This difficulty is the result of all companies deciding that if they make clothes with random measurements they are bound to strike “size gold” sooner or later. Consequently, many women are left to try on many different sizes of the same outfit while inadvertently inflicting friends or family members to many grueling hours at the mall following you around, listening to smooth jazz or adult contemporary music, avoiding sales clerks, and holding your purse or jacket. On behalf of all your loved ones, “We forgive you”. We are all guilty of this crime. So is there any way to find that perfect size?
Even a person with an average body type has problems finding clothes that fit. Because I am slightly smaller than the average teenager it would be rational to assume that because of my size it is easy for me to find clothes. This assumption, however, is rarely true. In fact is very hard to find clothes that properly fit my body type. Take for instance a make-believe shopping trip that I have compiled from many separate, yet equally frustrating, shopping trips. I arrive at the store hoping to find a shirt that is long enough to cover my new low-rise jeans and is more durable than tissue paper. I begin searching and find a few shirts that vary in color which may just fit. But wait, I hit a snag. One of the shirts looks a little bit small, so I return to the rack and get the same shirt in a different size. This happens repeatedly with almost every shirt I have previously picked up.
Finally I reach the dressing room weighted down like a pack horse. Trying on my first shirt I realize that it is about the size of a 6 to 9 month old infant’s shirt. So I move on to the next size up. The new shirt is long enough to cover my low-rise jeans; however, it is too baggy on top and could become like a parachute if I ever bend over. This process takes several hours of trying on and hanging up my clothing items. Finally I leave the dressing room 254 shirts, 6 sizes, and 24 colors later with a shirt I randomly picked from the 75% off rack. I hate shopping.
Fascinating as it is to be a part of fashion and watch trends come and go, these current trends must finish their fifteen minutes of fame before anyone is subjected to another viewing of rear end “cleavage” or rips a hole in their new shirt just by putting it on. Despite the attempts of the fashion industry to be “cutting edge”, or even just “edgy”, they repeatedly fall short, causing mass hysteria in shopping malls all throughout America. To all you designers of the low-rise jeans, the cheese cloth shirts, the tube tops, the mini skirt, and yes, the bell bottom, I say, “No, thank you, I would rather be naked!”
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