Dressbarns and clotheshorses

The other day I got really excited about clothes. As my recent shopping experiences have been nothing short of nightmares, this is definitely something worth noting. Granted, the excitement lasted for about ten minutes, but still. It's worth mentioning. Allow me to explain.

You see, as I was walking towards to my all-time favorite shoestore, I noticed that a Dressbarn had opened next door. A recent forage through my closet made it painfully clear that I was in desperate need for some up to date clothes. You know, cute, yet appropriate business wear, nice summer dresses, and tops and pants that did not try to make me look as though I was born after the Berlin wall came down. I mean, it's possible that I'm spoiled, but none of the stores around here seem to be able to help me in that respect. Sears, JCPenny's, Belk's, and Macy's seem to cater to women born during the prohibition, Walmart seems to be meant for people who really don't care if their clothes fall apart after two spin cycles while most other stores down here insist on having me look like a 17-year old cheerleader gone seedy. I used to be able to stop in at The Limited, Ann Taylor Loft and The Gap, and be done for an entire year, but after those stores all closed (and the nearest ones are now 100 miles away thankyouverymuch), my clothing situation had become slightly dire.

Through the grapevine that is our town, I had heard that the Dressbarn was a nice store, with decent clothes that were fun, fashionable, and affordable. What more could a woman want? So I smiled all the way into the store, and immediately saw at least four things I liked. I picked the smallest size they had (a 4), and went to the fitting room, only to step out completely disillusioned a few moments later. The size four was too big. And I mean fall-off-your-hips too big.
"Yes, " the saleslady commiserated, "I didn't think a size four was going to fit you. When you first came in, I had you pegged at a two."
"A two?!" I exclaimed.
"Oh yes dear, maybe even a zero."
"Well, do you carry a two?"
"Oh no, our smallest size is a four." The lady appeared almost as distraught as I was.

Before everyone starts telling me I'm too skinny, I would like to vehemently state that I am not. I am 5'4", and my weight falls perfectly within the healthy BMI range. I am also very happy to inform you that I am the proud owner of a real behind, one that for years has made it impossible for me to even look at a Levi's 501. I, for one, think something is up with the sizing.

When I told the lady about my sizing theory, she just smiled at my mother (who happened to be there), and said, "If only we could be as skinny as she is."
Yeah. And not be able to buy clothes you like.

But anyway, I wasn't convinced by her "you're just skinny" attitude, because I distinctly remember being a four, not too long ago. And once again, for the record, no, I have not been losing weight. So when I came home, I dove into my dresser, and triumphantly pulled out a pair of shorts that are about ten years old (I told you I needed a wardrobe update!) and which very clearly had the number "4" on its label. To drive my point home, I pulled the shorts on, and they fit. One could even argue they were just a little snug in my waist.

When I went shopping with husband-dear over the weekend, I once again tried on some dressy skirts (at Penny's this time - these looked as though they were meant for the movie 9 to 5, and with the current penchant for things vintage, I actually thought they were pretty cute). The skirts were all a size 4, and again, they fell right off my butt. Ridiculous, I tell you. Another store, believe it or not, had minus sizes, while another store had introduced half sizes or something equally mathematically challenging.

My point is that I think that American stores have been slowly making sizes bigger, in an attempt to make women feel better about themselves; "Hey! Wow! I'm only a size eight, while I used to be a size twelve! Cool! I'm coming back here!". While I don't mean to underestimate the importance of a positive body image, I would also like to point at the notion that this puts people like me at a distinct disadvantage? What are we to do? Stop exercising? Put on twenty pounds? Or more realistically: Order everything online from The Limited? Make friends with our local tailor?

Anyway, I'll deal, I'm sure. But in the meantime, it sure is frustrating. And to take away the edge of once again not finding one piece of clothing that actually fit, husband-dear and I stopped at Steak 'n' Shake to get me a small banana shake. And guess what? They don't carry smalls anymore. Correlation anyone?