Michelle

I still have some jeans I used to wear in college, and they still fit. They're a size 4. Today if I tried on a new pair of size 4 pants, they'd slide off my womanly hips and fall to the floor.

Welcome to the other side of vanity sizing. Sure, it leaves the size 18s feeling good when they shimmy into a size 12. But it leaves women like me feeling naked.

I'm not anorexic. I'm not Nicole Richie. I'm not a supermodel or a meth user. I'm just a normal, 5-foot-3, 105-pound woman.

I'm 35 years old and I'd like not to have to dress like a teeny-bopper just because I'm, well, teeny.

It was a tragedy for me when the Petite Sophisticate chain closed last year. My husband called it the Skinny Sexy Store after I told him other larger, meaner women would razz me for shopping there. I don't think of myself as particularly sophisticated, but they did have pants for lean people. I went to four malls in two counties before the chain closed, buying every pair of pants that fit. I don't know what I'll do when those wear out.

Believe me, I know all the stores with petite racks. I haunt them. But "petite" in store lingo doesn't mean thin. It means short. There are plenty of "petite" clothes out there as wide as they are tall. I'm accustomed to taking an item I love to the sales clerk and saying apologetically, "Um, I hate to ask, but do you have this in a size zero petite? No, the size zero doesn't fit . . ."

But why should I be embarrassed? There's nothing wrong with me. In my mind, there's something wrong with those women who are too vain to admit they're not the size they used to be.

I don't expect the size 12s (18s?) of the world to love me. I don't ask for or expect sympathy. But is it too much to ask that stores put a few 00s on the rack so I can wear attractive, age-appropriate clothing too?

Kate Brassfield can be reached at (727) 893-8216 or [Only Registered Users Can See Links. Click Here To Register].