Sizeist

First off: Matt and the kids and I are going to be doing a fundraiser walk with the JDRF on October 25, so we're looking for sponsors! If you'd like to contribute in any amount, go to http://walk.jdrf.org/support.cfm?id=87206308, and thank you.

---

This morning, tired of the two pairs of pants I have that I can wear to work, I dug deep in the drawer and stubbornly tried on a bunch of pairs of pants that I was pretty sure didn't fit.

My findings?

I own six pairs of pants that are suitable for work in fall weather. One of them is a size 3X, one of them a 20/22, two size 18, and two size 22.

Would you like to guess which ones fit? I'll even give you a hint: The 3X and 20/22s are the ones I've been wearing to work since Labor Day came along and I put my capris away. (Though the 3X is a little on the roomy side, and if I managed to lose about 10 pounds, I'd have to chuck them.)

One of the 18s wouldn't go on at all. Fair enough.

One of the 22s wouldn't zip.

The other 22s I got on okay, but they turned into sausage casings when I sat down. I suppose I could wear them in a pinch, but it wouldn't be comfortable.

The other pair of 18s... I'm wearing today.

This is what's wrong with women's clothing, dammit. Why can I wear an 18 one day but need a 24 the next? It's not water retention. It's not that I had a snack the night before. It's not the weather. I tried these pants on in the space of about 5 minutes. What size am I? Apparently, anywhere between an 18 and a 24, depending on the precise manufacturer and cut. This is why I can't buy pants online -- by the time I figure out what size I am, I've paid half a fortune in shipping costs. And then the season changes and the stores stop carrying whatever line I just figured out.

(Shirt sizing is just as wonked, but since I prefer my shirts a little loose and long so they hang down to cover my belly and butt, which are not only big but weirdly shaped, I just buy on the larger end of the range. Occasionally, I give up on a shirt as "too big" -- but it doesn't happen often.)

And I still only have three pairs of pants that I can reasonably wear to work. And my sole pair of jeans (not counted as part of the three, but pretty soon here I'm going to have to stop wearing shorts on the weekend) smells like a skunk nested in them, despite multiple washings and vinegar rinses. I only have two work bras (though I just ordered two more; keep your fingers crossed for me).

I think I'm going to have to sacrifice a vacation day and go clothes shopping. This thrills me even less than the vacation day I sacrificed to clean the house and purge the kids' toys, but there it is. Sigh.