I stumbled into an early bird sale at Kohl’s last weekend. I almost never go to stores without a coupon in hand, which was why I was at the Bed, Bath & Beyond across the street. I decided I needed a big cutting board to go with my big knife. My dinky little plastic board just wasn’t “cutting” it anymore. If I’m going to be chopping up heads of broccoli to roast I need more space for my produce scalping. Only I got to Bed, Bath & Beyond and realized I’d left my big, blue 20% coupon at home. Strange to think I’d misplaced it because those coupons are printed on huge cardboard postcards. It’s like losing a nuclear weapon. I decided to go to Kohl’s to see if they had a cheaper cutting board since I was in the neighborhood. At current gas prices I’ve calculated that it costs me about 11.5 cents to travel a mile. I really didn’t want my 69 cents to go to waste. That’s half a load of laundry I wouldn’t be able to do or almost one packet of sugar-free Jell-O I would not be eating.
Kohl’s doesn’t sell cutting boards, or if they do they have them hidden underneath the bath towels or behind the picture frames because I couldn’t find them. Since I was there, I headed over to the misses section. I still feel like a tourist when I’m in the misses section at Kohls. It’s so close to the front of the store that I can actually see sunlight from there. I’m used to hiking to the back and browsing the plus-sized clothes by only electric lighting.
I had headed to this area of the store for one purpose, to see if they still had the world’s most perfect T-shirt for sale. I bought two of these shirts on sale several months ago and had since decided that never had there ever been a shirt so perfectly designed for my own body. The v-neck, the snug yet flattering fit, the well-defined yet not boxy sleeves, the not-too-short but not-too-long length. Whenever I slipped on one of these t-shirts I felt perfectly comfortable. It was versatile enough to wear while exercising or when I went to work. I have no idea if this t-shirt fits anyone else as well as it fits me, but damn does it ever fit me. Which is why I wanted to buy one in every color.
I grabbed a couple shirts from the shelf and headed for the dressing rooms. As I suspected, the shirt still fit me perfectly. The nicest surprise was the sticker stuck down the front said “S S S S S S S S.” I was not buying a snakeskin shirt that was hissing at me, I was buying a “small” shirt and it fit fine. I never thought I’d be so proud to be a small person. I never expected to ever fit into a small shirt. I was so used to buying extra-large everything, be it shirts or sodas, that the very idea of fitting into a size small t-shirt was too much for my mind to handle without exploding, like it was trying to conceptualize the size of the entire universe.
While this is very, very, cool, isn’t it a bit weird? I’m still at least 10 pounds away from being a “normal” weight according to my BMI. And even though my front pooch no longer passes the pencil test I do still have a front pooch. If I’m a small, what do the really tiny people wear? Do they have to go to the girls section? Do they go to the toy section of Target and buy Barbie doll clothes? I can only guess that this sizing system is a reflection of the size of most customers, in comparison to whom I must now be considered small.
Whatever. I bought seven shirts in different colors. One of the annoying things about losing weight for almost two and half years is that I’ve been hesitant to invest in clothing. I never know how long it will fit. The most expensive thing I’ve bought in the past two years is a winter coat. Since they didn’t sell an extra-small size, I figured I wasn’t going to get too much smaller than this on top, so I should stock up. I wasn’t going to get a shirt of this quality for much cheaper than $6.00 anyway.
When I got home and was cutting tags I pulled out one shirt and realized it had a “M M M M M M M M” sticker on the front. I’d picked it up out of habit. So now I have to spend another 69 cents to go to the store to exchange it. There’s another bowl of Jell-O I won’t be eating.