I had a thought recently, when I uncovered what had to be the fifteenth pack of un-worn cotton underwear meant for return to Target. This was the thought: "How did I ever think my ass was this big?"
I'll tell you how. Sizing. Clearly, the manufacturers of pants never talk to the manufacturers of underpants. I fill up every inch of a pair of size 9 jeans, and damn, I do it well. But, given the fact that there are size 0 jeans in existence --minus sizes, even-- what size underwear do you think I'd look for? Size 9? Lord, no. How about 6? Oddly enough, too big. And when confronted with bins of adorable underpants labelled S, M, L, and X-L, you'd think I'd be a Medium, yeah? Well you'd be wrong. The Mediums inexplicably sag off my pert round ass like so much drapery. My fabulous size 9 pelvis requires a Small. What the hell, textile industry? What the hell?
This is not the only sizing discrepancy I've noticed, either. For instance: I wear a Large in women's t-shirts, a Small in women's camisoles. A Small in women's tights --which are sized according to height/weight proportions, and may as well be sized according to one's eye color-- and a whopping 10 in ladies' dress sizes. My bra size is 36B, which is fairly average and about $30 a pop for the worst of the lot. Bangle bracelets fly off my wrists at the tamest dance move, dress shoes simply will not stay on my abnormally-narrow feet, and yet I have never found a non-Rastafarian hat that will accommodate my apparently gigantic head.
When all of this information is considered logically, I should look something like this:
of MIDGET SHE-OGRE.
But I can't be the only one of my kind, right? Does anyone else notice these baffling sizing incongruencies? And what, pray tell, happens to packages of opened underwear once they are returned to a store? And where, WHERE IN THE HELL, do you size-0 bitches find panties?? I sure would like to know.