Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Excuse Me, Did You Say 38???

I suppose you could say I'm not a "normal" girl when it comes to the size and shape of my body. I'm not skinny by any means, but I really never worry about my weight. Of course, like every woman, there's a few places here and there that I wouldn't mind toning up, but I've never been one to stand in front of a mirror for hours, fretting over the size of my ass. I don't own a scale, I can rarely be bothered to work out, and while I eat relatively well, I don't deny myself a treat because I'm worried about the extra calories.

In other words, I like me just the way I am. That said, I got a serious shock this past weekend. My apathy turned around and gave me a swift kick in the posterior.

On Saturday afternoon I went to a seamstress to be fitted for a dress. Part of the process required stripping down to my skivvies and having all my "regions" measured. Now, other than buying a bra, I don't ever need to know my measurements. The last time I had them taken I was in my twenties, trying on a bridesmaid's dress with the girls, and we were all drunk. I didn't ask the old Polish lady at David's for them, and she never offered them up.

So on Saturday, Mrs. Malec was doing her thing with her tape measure around my boobs, and all of I sudden, I hear her say, "38."

"Excuse me, did you say 38?", I asked.

"Yep. 38."

"How's that possible? I wear a 34 bra. Maybe a 36."

"That's under the breast, honey. This is across the nipple."

All I could think was, "Oh my God, I'm HUGE."

So, she keeps on working. Waist 28 inches, shoulder-to-nip (yes, this is necessary) 9 inches, hips 38 INCHES??? You've got to be kidding me. Now, when I think about it logically, that's hourglass, baby. When combined with my height (5'7") and weight (130 pounds), those measurements don't seem so large, and I still like me just the way I am. But CHRIST! I guess I just didn't expect to hear those numbers. When I hear 38, I think of Mansfield or Monroe and their fabulous figures, not mine.

I guess my Grandmother was right after all. I do have "good, strong, Italian child-bearing" hips. Too bad they'll go to waste on the likes of me.



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