My friend Heidi is having to pull off a wedding next May with the bridal party scattered all over the world. As a result, she asked us to send in our measurements, and then she would send us a dress. Sounds great, eh? Yeah, I thought so, too. There was something strange about this that kept nagging me, however. Finally, I realized that I haven’t heard talk about women’s measurements except for stories about the time of the World Wars, when guys would talk about getting a girl with ideal hourglass measurements and the chest-waist-hips numbers for movie stars were public knowledge (or, at least, a fictional account of them). Now we get our dresses with meaningless numbers like “10” (even better, a “4” in one store, a “12” in another, and “S/M” in yet another) and don’t have any idea what our numbers would be if we had clothing sewn for us. So, standing at a seamstress the other day, with yellow tape measure all over the place, I felt vintage 🙂
Erin
Alan Schmierer