Why Size Literally, Truly, Actually, Does Not Fucking Matter
Does this sound familiar?
You’re online shopping. Browsing your little heart out. You find something so cute, so amazing, so YOU and know it’s an immediate add-to-cart. But before you can bag it, you have to choose a size. In some brands, you’re always a small except for those few times you were a medium. In other brands, you’re definitely a large but the reviews are saying it runs big so to size down. But then five other reviews say it runs SMALL, so to size UP. One review says you shouldn’t even fucking bother because the piece sucks; another claims they’ve never felt more beautiful than in this piece. Your mind is whirling, so you decide to get literal about it and pull out the measuring tape. Surely if you know your exact bust, waist, and hip measurements according to a universal, indisputable system of numbers, you can’t go wrong with the size you choose. Right? Wrong. Even when you order a size based off your actual inches, it arrives and is still too big or too small because it’s all a farce.
This is what’s wrong with the fashion industry and why your pant/dress/shorts/skirt size literally, truly, actually does not fucking matter.
It’s also why, if you’re anything like me, you’ve found it increasingly more and more difficult to order the “right” size. You’ve been so scarred from trusting the size you’ve worn forever or your body measurements and getting it so utterly wrong, that you’re now ordering two, even three sizes at a time to cover all your bases, knowing full well you’re going to have to spend your precious time returning whatever doesn’t work all the while waiting for those returns to be credited back to your account. Not only is it a fucking hassle, but it’s also a mind fuck.
I have fluctuated my entire life. I’m 5’4” with a small frame and somewhat short torso and hold all my weight in my midsection, so 2-3 pounds is NOTICEABLE on me. Like, really noticeable. Freaky noticeable. My clothes notice it, too, because 2-3 pounds can send me up or down a size like nothing. So having a variety of sizes in my closet has been my norm for a while. It’s my reality. However, shit is getting out of hand. Lately with shopping, it seems like the brand itself determines what they consider to be sizing. What one brand deems a surefire medium is the next brand’s XXS. A line of denim relies on vanity sizing, convincing you that you’re a solid 27, but another line is like “Bitch, you a 30.” It makes no sense and is beyond infuriating as a consumer, especially considering that the majority of us rely on online shopping for the convenience and variety. Women’s sizing is the wild west as far as I’m concerned. It’s a mother fucking free-for-all; anything goes and no one and nothing can be trusted, which brings me back to the point of this post: Whatever “size” you are means nothing.
Size isn’t an assignment. Size isn’t an identity. Size isn’t fact, it’s not truth, and it’s definitely not absolute. Size is a suggestion. It’s a ball park number. Size is a gauge, an estimation and, more than anything, a thought. Size says “IDK, I mean. According to some, this could be an oversized medium or a shrunken large. Could fit like a 4 but be the perfect size 8. It’s whatever. Are you gonna buy it or what?”
The way I see it, you can approach this two ways.
way 1: keep forcing the issue and yourself into particular sizes because it's your size, get upset it doesn't fit "how it should," rinse and repeat forever until the end of time
way 2: accept that the fashion industry is beyond repair in how they label sizes, and simply buy what fits best, regardless of size
I know how much a mind fuck way 2 can be especially considering how many of us have been living and dying slowly by way 1 for as long as we can remember. Way 1 actually reminds me of one of my favorite Kelly Kapoor moments from The Office. She’s on the phone with customer service saying,
“This is the second time that you’ve sent me the wrong size. I mean I know what a four should feel like. I’ve been a four my whole life.”
Life fluctuates. Bodies fluctuate. Sizing that should be reliable and universal fluctuates when it shouldn’t. So fuck the size; buy what fits, what feels the best and, most importantly, what makes you feel beautiful. If that means going up 3 “sizes” in a dress, or down 2 “sizes” in some jeans, so be it. Size is a construct, and we simply don’t have time for that anymore.
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