The Right Fit

When I was younger, I assumed that when clothes didn’t fit correctly, even though I had the “right” size, that it was my fault. I was too fat, too curvy in the wrong places, too tall, not tall enough.

For god’s sake, some of that stuff isn’t even in my control.

My ex-husband was amazed to discover how many sizes were in my closet, that a 16 in one brand might not fit me in another. After all, men’s pants are sized in inches. If you’re a 34 inseam, you’re a 34 inseam. End of story.

Yes, yes, I know there are different cuts that fit men differently as well. But it’s not nearly as bad as it is for women.

For most of my adult life, I have found myself stuck somewhere in the middle when it comes to sizing. I’m big enough that standard department stores don’t always carry sizes big enough for me. But I am small enough that clothes at plus-sized stores are often too big. Same with bra sizes. The cute ones are never big enough in department stores. In plus-sized stores, the sizing starts around my size so the options are still limited.

I am tall and leggy. So “average” sized pants can be too short. But “tall” sizes are usually too long. The good news is that I love maxi skirts and dresses. They fit me really well. But I can’t help wondering who else they fit.

The other good news is that I have an hourglass figure. I am proportional, even if the proportions aren’t what most designers have in mind. But I have several friends who aren’t and lament that models never look like them, that they can’t trust sizing charts because they are pear-shaped, not busty enough, etc.

And yet, we continue to settle for clothes that mostly fit. Or we find that one style that works for us and wear the hell out of it.

I prefer the latter option, but it takes so much experimentation. So much money to figure out that a certain cut, or a certain brand doesn’t actually work for you. That just because it looks okay in the store doesn’t mean it will be right out in the real world with all the moving around, sitting and standing that we do all day.

It’s a never ending nightmare, it really is. My only comfort is that we all have these issues. Seriously, get any group of women together and start this topic. We will go for days about our complaints.

My answer? Wear what you like. I used to make an effort to buy different colored clothes because it seemed wrong to wear black all the time. At some point, I quit caring about what anyone else thought.

If I find something I like that fits. You’re damn right I’m going to wear the hell out of it.

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