July 8, 2003
By Jae-Ha Kim
Chicago Sun-Times
If you want to know why it
takes a woman so long to get dressed, try going shopping with her. Aesthetics
aside, women have to deal with sizes that make no sense.
Welcome to the wacky world
of women's clothes, where more has become less when it comes to sizes.
As Americans have grown
larger as a society, our clothing sizes--especially for women--have shrunk
to cater to our vain need to wear the same size we did as teenagers, even
though we've packed on more weight as adults. And one designer's Size 10
is another's Size 8 ... or 6.
Couple that with vanity
sizing--where the number will indicate a smaller size, even though it's
cut roomier to fit our meatier modern bodies than in our mothers' generation--and
you've got clothing chaos.
Enough is enough for a group
of exasperated experts who're taking steps to replace vanity sizing with
something more regulated. These American size researchers--who are composed
of clothing and retail manufacturers--are sponsoring SizeUSA to determine
the real shape of American consumers.
They're also hoping that
correct sizing will help curb the $28 billion worth of merchandise returned
each year due to poor fit.
SizeUSA drew its inspiration
from the British, who completed their own sizing census last year.
"We've become tubular, which
is not a popular message," says Phillip Treleav-en, SizeUK's project director.
"No wonder 70 percent of people complain they can't find clothes that fit
them."
An intriguing aspect of
the SizeUSA data is that it will give manufacturers an opportunity to evaluate
measurements by age, gender and ethnic background. J.C. Penney Co., one
of the survey's sponsors, is using the data to develop private-label lines
targeted at specific groups, such as Latinos.
"One of the things we could
do with the study is access data that allows us to establish a Hispanic
size grid," says Peter McGrath, senior vice president for product development.
"[Then] we can better serve the niche markets."
When it comes to size, ethnic
makeup can make a difference. The average Asian and European behind is
smaller than an American's. Remember the stink during the 1988 Summer Olympics
in Seoul, when Americans complained the stadium seats were too small?
Sixty years ago, the average
American bottom was 14 inches wide. Today, it's 2 inches wider, which is
unfortunate since most toilet seats are just 14.5 inches wide. The average
woman's weight in the 1960s was 140.4 pounds. Today? Try 152.2 and rising.
The closest America came
to standardized sizing was during the 1940s when the U.S. Army conducted
a study of body types for men and women to supply uniforms for the war,
according to the American Apparel & Footwear Association. But the system
broke as designers sought to sell clothes to their own clientele and began
sizing their clothes to their own version of the ideal shape.
This may explain why a woman
can barely squeeze into a Size 6 pair of pants at Bebe, but she'll swim
in Liz Claiborne's slacks marked the same size.
When manufacturers began
mass producing ready-to-wear clothes in the late 19th century, sizing was
based on age and ran from 14 through 20. Of course, this wasn't a foolproof
system either. Not all 20 year olds are shaped the same.
"The sizing issue isn't
simply that women don't want to buy larger sizes," says Linda Jo Connell,
associate professor of consumer affairs at Auburn University. "There is
research that shows women are receptive to that idea. But some designers
don't want that uniformity thrust on them. If their fit is good, they don't
want to be copied. It's an issue of fit as a commodity, so they want to
guard how they size certain pieces."
Contributing: Wall Street Journal
Thin may be in, but there's a limit to how low ideal weights can
go
July 8, 2003
By Jae-Ha Kim
Chicago Sun-Times
I recently saw a display
of vintage mannequins from the turn of the century that shocked me. They
were life-size and wearing dresses equivalent to a Size 10 or 12.
Fast-forward to a shopping
trip to a downtown Chicago department store where the mannequins were roughly
the shape of your 12-year-old nephew. While we as a nation have gotten
larger, the size ideal has gotten smaller--for women, that is.
I blame Hollywood for perpetuating
this skewed view of reality and its women for living the lie that says
the bigger the lips, the smaller the hips.
It's bad enough women already
have to deal with the notion that we become less attractive as we grow
older while our male counterparts' age lines and gray hair are considered
distinguished. But how are we to compete with a size ideal that's almost
impossible even for the whippet thin set to maintain?
Admittedly, some women are
naturally thin. But even those who are renowned for their slight figures
acknowledge how difficult it is keeping their shapes in a society where
thin not only is in, it's almost mandatory.
Actress Susan Dey admits
that at the height of her anorexia, she received envious fan mail from
girls who wanted to whittle down to her size. When Kate Moss put on a few
pounds to tip the scales at 110, some designers criticized the 5-foot-6
model for letting herself go. And less than a decade ago, Sarah Jessica
Parker swore she didn't diet or work out. Now the new mom speaks openly
about the need to exercise to maintain her tiny but curvy shape.
As for Lisa Kudrow, pity
the Size 6 actress, who is a behemoth compared to spindly Courteney Cox
and Jennifer Aniston.
What we Midwestern women
would like to know is, why do these L.A. women keep perpetuating this image
that emaciated is best? It's not just the celebs, whose livelihood depends
on how they look. The regular folk fall into the trap of keeping up with
movie stars.
In just about any other
state (except for New York, where Social X-Rays rule), Juicy Couture's
Large would be considered a Medium at best, Liv Tyler wouldn't be dubbed
a "big girl," and Size 0 would be annoying rather than coveted.
The women who I feel the
most pity for are L.A.'s regular women. During a shopping trip with one
of my friends, I watched dumbfounded as a sales clerk literally took a
dress away from my 5-foot-10-inch, Size 10 buddy. The woman was worried
that my very lean friend might "stretch" it.
To all the curvy Los Angelinos
who're hungry for acceptance, I extend an open invitation: Come to the
Midwest where the men are men and the women are fed.
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