It seems I missed National Underwear Day. It was August 6th this year, and I’m kinda bummed (see that pun?) I missed it. Had I remembered the date, I would have gone out into the streets to protest against sizing in undergarments. I would have RAGED about the sizing of undergarments.
You see, I have a rather difficult relationship with underthings, mainly because they are seldom comfortable. But mostly it’s because I am not what you would call ‘fashion-sized,’ and as much as I bitch about women over 40 being left out as heroines in romance novels, I am even bitchier about the fact petite women are left out of the fashion industry’s thought on underwear. By petite I mean real, curvy women under 5’3. By petite I mean a tad over 5 foot woman ME.
I’m what you call ‘in-between sized.’ While I buy a size 3 shoe I am actually a 2 1/2. For clothing in Australia, I am not a size 6 and I am not a size 8 — I’m more like a 6 1/2. I am not a US size 2 and I am not a US Size 4 — I’m more like 2 1/2. This ‘and a half’ bit equates to wearing a LOT of kids shoes, as well as a living nightmare when it comes to purchasing bras and knickers/undies/panties whatever you want to call them. Undergarments are not things you can bring to a tailor and say, here FIX this bra and make the cups a B and a half, or take in these hipsters so they’re not baggy in the ass.
While I have slightly more luck with finding sizes in shops that sell petites in the USA, I am totally convinced the Australian fashion industry does not believe there are short women in the country. In Oz, department stores and designers think petite women = an eighty-something female who is only petite because she has shrunken with age, which results in a garment being shorter, but also means the “petites” are wildly hideous floral print or animal print or stripey print. Of course the only underpants one would wear under such (insert sarcastic tone here) lovey clothes would be full coverage, granny-panties.
The only comfortable underpants is no underpants or giant full coverage cotton briefs, which I opt to wear because, as baggy-assed as they are, they creep the least and display less visible pantyline.