Clothing sizes are funny. How we think about them are even funnier.
Act 1: Way back in once upon a time time, my wife, daughter and her friend were tooling around SE Asia on holiday. At the time, I was working as a teacher in Saipan and men in Micronesia don't wear shorts except to go fishing or work on the farm. Long pants (w/zori) were de rigueur for pretty much any other situation. We were in Kota Bharu, Malaysia and I went into a department store to see if I could get a good deal on a pair of slacks, taking advantage of the currency exchange. I found a pair that struck my fancy and wanted to try them on. They were sized S, M, L and XL. Because I'm not a particularly large fellow, I took the M into the changing room. Oof. Not even close. Okay, I thought, let's move up to the L size. Again, oof. I'm 5'10" and weigh in at 158 today. I was a few pounds lighter way back then. L's were too tight. The XL's were a fit, and that's what I wound up walking out of the store with. That and a bit of wounded pride.
Act 2: Fast forward more than a few years, I was in Bangkok getting a few suits made. My tailor took my measurements and read them off. When he said, "Waist, 33 inches," I said, "Hold on, I'm a 32." He replied, "You know the numbers on clothing made for Westerners aren't accurate. When you measure the actual waistband, it's actually 1 - 2" longer than the number. Oof again. What size we are is all in our heads. I was getting trousers that were a 33". But hang on there, I'm not a 33, damn it, I'm a 32" waist. Because it was a bespoke suit, the number - that was just one more than the number in my head (where I sometimes live), wasn't included anywhere on the pants. That took away some of the sting.
Act 4: Sizes. They're funny things. And again, how we think of them are funnier. When I was in Kwajalein last year, I bought a grey, fleece like hoodie off Amazon to keep me warm in my well chilled room. I got a medium. I was FaceTiming Celine one day (whilst wearing the hoodie) and she quickly said, with obvious displeasure, "What is that you're wearing? You look ridiculous!" The medium was short and tight. It did not fit well, but it kept me warm. I told her I don't wear it outside my room and she seemed somewhat relieved. But I had a trip planned to Maui and the very next day, she FaceTimed me again. From Costco. She was showing me two light jackets, one in blue, one in black and said, "I'd like to get one of these for you. Which color would you like? I'll get you a large." It was clear. Come to Maui. I'll have a jacket for you. Leave the hideous, tight fitting grey thing behind. Please. I know people here.
Grand finale: Celine just moved to Huntsville. Before she came here, she asked me if there was anything I'd like from Honolua. I said, "Yeah, maybe a hoodie. Something warm and cozy." She sent me a few texts of choices. I made mine, she bought it and didn't ask me about the size. She wore it on the flights she took from Maui and yesterday, when it was chilly, I said, "Hey, where's that hoodie? It's cold!" She had just washed and dried it and it was so delightfully warm. And cozy. Just like I asked. And it's a large. Some larges are larger than others. And longer. This goes to mid thigh. I think it looks just as ridiculous as the tight fitting medium. But thank you for the kind gesture and here's to the next chapter in your life.
Bonus fact 'o the day for getting to the end of this silliness and total non-sequitur: The first U.S. Vice President of color is NOT Kamala Harris. It was Charles Curtis. He was Herbert Hoover's VP and was a biracial Native American, a member of the Kaw Nation.
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