Stop making us feel so bad about the size of our jeans

Is it just me or has shopping become one of the most dreaded experiences, especially as a woman? When I was younger I remember getting so excited to go shopping because I was always on the lookout for new clothes, everything fit me perfectly (for the most part), and I loved trying things on to model for my mom. I would ask to go to the mall every single weekend—I just absolutely loved it. But now as I’m getting older, I try to avoid the mall at every cost. Not only does it drain my bank account, but it also drains my self-esteem. Every year I go up another size with no explanation, and it affects the reflection I see in the fitting room mirror. The conversation I have with myself in the mirror sounds something like this:

Wow… I look really bad. Ugh do I really look like that? Do I look fat? Maybe I should start dieting. I need to start going to the gym.

And just like that, I end up leaving the store practically in tears. Honestly, there is nothing more frustrating than this feeling—and I know I’m not alone.

The first major problem with this is that every store sizes their clothing differently—especially their pants. In 2017, the picture to the left went viral—pictured is five pairs of jeans, all supposedly the “same size”. This alone is extremely frustrating because it means you have to try on multiple sizes at most of the stores you go to. When I’m shopping, I generally follow my size 8 norm. But alone at one store, I have fluctuated between a size 4 and a size 10 depending on the cut of the jeans…so I have all together given up shopping there. How is it that a size 6 could be considered a size 10? There is reason behind this, and this leads right into the next major problem.

The second major problem has to do with the illusion surrounding our weight. The body that is currently in style is the thin and fit body. Our society has made us believe that this is the most attractive body, and with this, fashion (including clothing size) follows the trend. Companies know that nobody enjoys going up a size because being “fat” is something that is looked down upon—so they make consumers believe that if they go up a size when they really did not, they will most likely believe they have gained weight and need to lose weight. This is the fashion industry’s way of telling women how their bodies should be proportioned, and they makes us feel like it’s our fault that our “normal” size doesn’t fit anymore. It all comes back to the constant surveillance of our bodies and our appearance.

I understand that some companies try to keep their sizes true to themselves—and this is a good thing. I am not here to preach that sizing shouldn’t be a thing because even though we may not like the number associated with our size, it does indeed help us find the correctly sized clothing that we need. And I’m not here to push universally sized clothing either because it goes back to the argument surrounding “one size fits all”—every body is different, and one size in fact does not fit all. However, a consistent measurement for sizes should be put in place because it becomes a problem when companies purposefully continue engraining the “ideal” body mindset in our society.

We can’t place 100% of the blame on our society as a whole and on the companies promoting this. It is partially our fault for giving in to the mindset of wanting to be skinny. Previous studies have showed that women have a preference for smaller sized clothes because it “boosts our confidence,” and I have definitely been guilty of thinking this way. We continue to subconsciously support the “ideal” body type by falling into this trap.

Instead of giving in to the consumerism that is consistently apparent in our culture, we need to understand that our bodies are not defined by the number on the back of our jeans. It’s of course a process learning to accept my body as it is, but even slowly being able to work through this barrier is rewarding. Even though your size might fluctuate, you have not changed—it’s all simply a mind trick.