19-Dec-2005

The Honeybee bought me a travel pillow for Christmas!  Now, instead of laying my head on the dandruff-encrusted sweater of the dope next to me, I will be red-eyeing it in style this Friday as I make my way home.  Additionally, the bosses have bestowed a very nice nugget of holiday change upon yours truly, and they also saw fit for me to start shopping at Banana Republic, what with their new petite department and all.  But here's the thing - I went in there yesterday, gift certificate in hand (yeah, yeah, I said I would shop for other people, but we all know that's not gonna happen till Friday night at the LAX duty free), and found a dress I loved for Safari Barbie's wedding.  However, Banana's sizes seem to cater to the overindulgent Middle American red states, because I tried on a Petite Zero and it was hanging off me!  My theory (confirmed by a story I read on the Internet) is that, as America's collective ass gets exponentially larger, clever stores make their sizes bigger.  How many women (and maybe it's not just women?) do you know who would buy something in a Size 2, even if it didn't look that great, just because it was a Size 2?  A lot, right?  And I have no beef with that.  I understand.  But when a Zero is hanging off me, ME, not Kate Moss, not one or both of the Olsen twins, that's when we have to start asking ourselves if this labeling thing has gone too far.  Meanwhile, I am perfectly content to frequent the McDonald's around the corner from 1635 in order to shape up for this wedding.