A size fourteen in a size 0 world

I have a little bit of a problem with a size 0. Seriously. If you're not big enough to warrant a number...do you exist? Haven't you disappeared?

I've always fought my weight. Except when I smoked and right after I had kids. Obviously, I quit smoking...and right now my kids don't want me chasing after them making sure they don't fall or hurt themselves or get into trouble...though there are days I think they might benefit from having me right behind them.

Anyway, about ten years ago I decided to give up the battle and, of course, I gained some weight. For a long time I stopped on a size twelve and was fairly happy there. Unfortunately, about two winters ago I put on some more weight and now I'm a size fourteen. But even though the research suggests that most of us are a size 12 or 14, no one seems to have told makers of women's clothing.

This causes all kinds of problems. At church on Sunday I sat down and my pants and shirt didn't meet. It might be cute for a twenty-something with a firm behind to show off the top of her butt. But...seriously...no one wants to see that little piece of flesh below my top and above my jeans.

Worse, one year for Christmas my husband asked me what I wanted. I suggested he buy me something (nightwear) that he wanted to see me in. Christmas morning I opened up a package containing a huge flannel nightgown. As I dialed the number of my lawyer, he hastily explained that he'd bought me flannel because I'm always cold and he only wanted to see me warm and happy.

Hum.

I bought the explanation because he does have a tendency to be considerate, but I re-explained my request...telling him that I wanted him to buy me some sexy little number he'd like to see me in. Then I sent him back to the mall with a bit of cash.

He returned with a cute little red thing that came with a thong. I went into the bathroom to put it on so I could come out and model it. I took off my clothes and put on the thong...and whoosh it immediately disappeared in my fat roll.

I looked at the box. Nowhere does it say "must have a hard body to wear this". Or "Danger, tight thongs will disappear into fat rolls". Nope. There were no instructions at all.

In the meantime, my husband was getting restless. While he was calling, "Hey, babe, don't you have that thing on yet?" I was debating calling the fire department to see if they could bring over the jaws of life to get the red thong out of my fat roll.

I have no clue why sleeveless clothes are so fashionable when most of us refuse to wear them. There are maybe ten women who can wear sleeveless dresses. And whose idea was it to bring ruffles back? Do I not look round and cuddly enough? I actually have a three-tiered gray dress that makes me look like a keg of beer. I would be incredibly popular at college dorms in that thing.

Short plaid jackets also make me shake my head. First off, if you've got any sort of bustline at all, you ruin the line of the plaid. But second, does any woman really want to look like she has the shoulders of a linebacker?

Seriously, they dress football players better than this. Have you ever watched a game that had even ONE PLAYER who didn't look like he had a tight butt? Heck no. They dress these guys to show off their broad shoulders and tight butts and hide their big tummies.

So why can't designers make fashionable clothes that make the rest of us look good? Face it. The football players have money. They will never lack for a date or companionship and no one would dare tell them they looked bad. They could wear burlap and pancakes and no one would say a word.

Forget the football players. Make the rest of us look good!

susan