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Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Women's · #2322003
When the search for clothes results in lies!
Trying on clothes has always been a pain in my giant rear. Over the course of twenty years, after birthing nine children, my body has constantly shifted and changed until my clothing closet became a dismal mess of holy, misshapen shirts and jeans. I need clothes. Nobody wants to see the results if I should end up with nothing to cover this jiggly form. And yet, finding such items is a challenge.

I’m sure the quest for a good pair of pants is universal, among women. My personal search led me down a path to leggings, something I had vowed I would never wear. My body type is too lumpy and bumpy for all that leggings dare to show, but what was the alternative? As I said, running around nekkid would only burn the eyeballs of the community and I refuse to be the one responsible for blinding my neighbors.

Many ads claimed that a certain brand of leggings was a “one size fits all”. Didn’t matter if you were short, tall, fat, or thin, they vowed they would fit. All I could think was that they must be magical, these leggings. Perhaps forged from the hair of a unicorn, to be so powerful to fit any woman’s shape or size!

Skeptical, despite the reviews, I opened my wallet and bought a pair of these mystical pants. When they arrived all shiny and clean with that lovely new clothes scent, I couldn’t help but purse my lips in disbelief. They were half my size and the leg holes were so slim that I was certain the material would never stretch over my thunder thighs. But I wasn’t one to give up so easily.

The leggings slipped over and swallowed my legs with ease. Up and over the hump of my rear and I felt a wiggle of hope that I would finally, finally be able to leave the house properly clad and decent again. I was thwarted, suddenly, by my belly and that infamous “mom pouch”. The waist of those leggings just refused to rise past my lumpy middle. Hope sank and drooped, just like the band of the leggings.

I refused to let the leggings win and yanked them higher into place. They protested, rolling down my doughy belly.

“You’re supposed to be ‘one size fits all’!” I lectured. “You’re supposed to help tuck in this gut!”

So much for magical pants that fit the everyday woman. I passed them down to my daughter and, just to rub it in my face, the leggings fit her perfectly.

You would think I would have learned my lesson when it comes to “one size fits all” but, no.

Recently I acknowledged my severe need for new bras. No longer could my girls rely on the aged, ripped, neglected undergarments that had served me so well since the beginning of time. Those well used bras had done their duty and deserved to retire in peace. Problem was, there wasn’t a store in my area that sold bras large enough to cater to a woman who had birthed and nursed 9 babies. I was told to purchase online and, again, I was skeptical because don’t you have to try them on to make sure they fit and are comfortable?

Apparently not. Apparently women buy bras online every day, their “ladies” safely secured and supported by their online purchases.

It was worth a shot, I thought, and was even more enticed when I discovered a brand that boasted a “one size fits all” with their brassieres. Well, sort of. It was a “one size fits all” within a range of cup sizes. Still, I was amazed. I wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of pinpointing my exact size as the “quadruple size x” was promised to be perfect and had a money back or exchange-for-something-else guarantee. Bra shopping was going to be easy-peasy instead of a chore for once in my life! The ads were so comforting. Big busted women like myself looking sleek and comfortable in their shapewear. I almost cried, I was so relieved to have finally found a solution for my droopy gals.

Alas, I had been fooled again. I threw that bra on so quickly and eagerly when it arrived only to discover it was too tight and caused some spillage over the top. I didn’t feel like the ladies in the ad. I didn’t look like the ladies in the ad. I was a sausage in too tight of casing and it was uncomfortable.

A chat with customer service and they agreed to send me the next size up. I must have miscalculated the range of “one size fits all” needed for my size. I was relieved at the error, not even minding that the company was blaming me for the mistake, and waited for the new bra to arrive. I was kindly allowed to keep the first bra but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. It wasn’t really the kind of thing to hand off to a friend.

The correct bra arrived and this time I was a bit more leery, slipping it on slowly and connecting the hooks on the back with trepidation. My wariness was warranted as this time. The bra was much too big and provided zero support. I felt like Goldilocks, but without the “just right” porridge to fill me up.

I never bothered to contact the company again. I was honestly too embarrassed to admit that none of their products fit my awkward body. I went back to my old, ratty bras with sorrow and donated the online purchases to a thrift store.

I am still on the hunt for outfits that don’t make me look like a sack of potatoes and bras that keep me from drooping to the ground. Tired of tripping on them every step I take. But I have learned a couple of big lessons: The internet lies and “one size fits all” is a scam.

Never again will I believe that "one size fits all". Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me three times...






They're Pants if You're Short and Shorts if You're Tall
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