On Shopping and Sizes, or What Is This, A Cathy Cartoon?

So the other day we were out shopping, and my husband wanted to get a pair of pants. He walked into a store, found some pants he liked, checked the tags, picked up the pants and said "Let's go."
"Don't you want to try those on?"
"Nah."
"But how do you know they'll fit?"
"Ummm..." he said, pausing to figure out how not to imply that I was dumb "because they're my size?"
And then he went to pay for his pants. Which, ps, totally fit perfectly.

At the risk of sounding like a certain cartoon, AAAAAAACCCKKKK!

(Confession: my sister has pretty much the entire collection of Cathy comics at my parents' house, which I totally binge on (irony!) when I'm there at Christmas. Oh, Irving!)

I mean, seriously. I can't imagine the day when I would just believe that a marked size would correctly match the proportions of my body. Maybe if I already owned the same exact thing and was buying a second one in a different colour. But having had the experience of being 3 different sizes of jeans in the same store (I'm looking at you, Old Navy!), I'm always prepared for pants shopping to be an epic event.

At the moment, I wear a 14. Which is better than the 20 I've previously worn, but kind of a weird size generally. Even though we're constantly hearing "That's the average American woman's size!", 14 is a strange fit. It's on the cusp of plus size, so you have a good chance of finding it in a "regular" store (I know I'm not alone in my weight goals including being able to shop in regular stores). Plus size stores generally start at a 14, though that 14 will be cut differently than a 14 in a "regular" store. Not that the numbers mean anything, really.

I remember the legend of The Gap, where at one point if you wore, say, an 8 everywhere else, you would fit a 6 in Gap clothes. Which was kind of a nice little ego boost. But then everyone started doing it. So while you wear a size 8 at one store, you might take a 10 at another, or a 6 somewhere else. And so on, until we fast forward to Old Navy and me trying on sizes 12 through 16 in jeans, all variously too big or too small, depending on the style. And my husband picking out his usual size without trying on, waiting by the cash for me.

I mean, I'm sure people of all sizes have these fit/size problems. It's probably more emotionally charged for someone who, say, couldn't find trendy clothes as a kid, and for whom clothes shopping would be marked by comments on my weight and why I couldn't fit into regular sizes. In reality, I know it's the pants that suck, not my body. And yet...

Well, enough complaining and ackkking for one day.