Stop treating me like an idiot. I am not an idiot. In fact, I graduated with honors from a prestigious and challenging university. Not only can I read and write, but I can also discern when someone is trying to pull the wool over my eyes or, in this case, the ruched chemise. Do you think that I didn't notice that you've started vanity sizing? Do you think that I care about the number attached to the little tag at the back of my dress? What am I going to do? Flash that around to everyone?
Yes, there's a brief moment when I think to myself, "A size 2? I must have lost weight!" But you and I both know that my body size has barely altered since I hit college. I am not a size 2!
Nor does the reduction in the apparent size of the garment improve my ability to find and wear clothing that fits me. In fact, I find that I now need to bring a broader range of sizes into the dressing room (in a most recent trip, from a size 0 to a 6) in order to approximate what my size must be. Seriously, I have some bulging biceps from carrying around all the frickin' hangers!
Not a size 2
Seriously, I cannot fathom how stupid you must think I am to care more about a little number on a tag than about the logic of dressing myself. Who cares if I'm a 2, 8, or 16, so long as the clothing fits and makes me look good? It makes no sense! I'm an adult. I'm an adult with a functioning brain.
So stop treating me like an idiot, designers and sizers. I know that size doesn't matter. Damn. Sometimes, you're worse than Congress.
No longer yours,