The Last 3X

I ordered a shirt online this morning, size 3X, an oxford shirt.

On the one hand, I want to save money and wait until I fit into a smaller size. On the other hand, I need one more everyday knock-around shirt.

Larger sizes always cost more, allegedly because they require more fabric and different patterns. I’ve noticed, however, that petite-sized clothes never cost less, even though in theory they require less fabric; nor do they cost more, even though presumably they, too, require different patterns.

Tie never goes to the fat girl, let me tell you.

On the other hand, when you are overweight, clothes are less about fashion and more about protection and comfort. And I feel the need for protection and comfort these days.

In an oxford shirt and jeans, I feel untethered from weight and, to a certain extent, time. I wore the same uniform in middle school, in my 20s, and hope to always be able to pull off that look. I can picture myself as a teenager, and while I realize that I can’t ever return to that body, I’d like to return to something that more closely resembles it.

I hate wearing a 3x (or 2X, or 1X – I wear them all, as there is absolutely no standardization) because 1) it feels humiliating to have to buy larger-sized clothes, and 2) reverting to x-sizes insults larger-sized women. Why, when we cross a certain threshold, do we not deserve the calibration of sizes 2, 4, 6, and 8?

What confuses me even more are the retailers who offer some items in sizes 20, 22, 24, and beyond, but then switch to the X-sizes for other styles. Fit does not cease to matter when your size rises above a 14!

The politics of clothing sizes. This gets me worked up. I think I’ll step away from the computer and do something constructive rather than get frothed up about this right now. But, if you are interested, I’ll share more at some point soon.

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