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Just Thinking...and Thinking Very Rambling Thoughts
Ever since I picked up a needle and was taught how to sew a backstitch (I was five? six?) I've been obsessed with clothes. Not shopping, but costuming and construction. Sewing and knitting clothes is the one hobby I've had all my life without it ever boring my ADHD mind. (The two runner-ups: violin/music, since I've played most of my life; and video games, my first system was my mom's hand-me-down Atari 2600, it was all I had until I was 15.) While six year old me was more concerned with the warmth of her barbie dolls and the princess dress Mom made me for dress up, 13 year old me became very conscious of "fit". I was a very late bloomer, short, and still hadn't managed to entirely lose my gymnast figure and have a more normal body shape (and I had quit two years prior because of injury). I bought all my clothes from the girls department, irregardless of the fact that my pants were an inch short. It was good enough.
When I finally hit my growth spurt, I couldn't get away with girls size 12 anymore (too short!), but the juniors' clothes fit me in the oddest baggy ways (even in size 00!). Dresses gaped all around my bust; jeans threatened to fall of my hips. My mom introduced me to her very old, second-hand Singer and taught me how to make a dart, properly take in a seam, and how to make my clothes fit. Well, not fall off me is more accurate. I was sixteen before my waist returned (as compared to my hips and generous Latina rear), and then I faced a new conundrum: if it fit my hips/seat it was miles to big everywhere else, including over my still-small chest. It was back to the sewing machine (and my mom had just bought a new one!).
Unlike the rest of my peers who dealt with a freshman 15, I stayed the same weight, more or less. Unlike the rest of my peers, I went up a two cupsizes and a jean size, while my waist got *thinner* (I think this has to do with the fact I live in an all-girls dorm). Suddenly, even taking out all those meticulous alterations didn't fix the fit. Going up a shirt or dress size resulted in a very baggy waist. Not to mention the fact that all the clothes in stores were either tacky Forever 21 looks or professional looking clothing from the misses' department (where the smallest size barely over my bust and I still needed to take in the waist). I spent the summer months scouring thrift stores for older clothing and visiting the fabric store for more cloth. I remember buying my first pattern. I almost dropped it when my measurements put my smallest measurement in a size 8--three sizes up from the dresses at the store! My bust put me in a size 12! Oddly enough these sizes are close to my vintage pattern size--normally a size 10 or 12 waist and a size 14 or 16 bust. That was when the "vanity sizing" of store clothing hit me, and I came to really understand that the size really is just a number. Even the measurements of patterns are flexible; the size may say it's for a 34 inch bust, but I still have to alter it down because of my shape.
Since that summer, not only have I made myself three dresses and several blouses (and inherited two vintage dresses from my grandma--which fit so nicely. Thanks Grandma!), but I've gone up another two cup sizes and learned how a bra is supposed to fit, which then put me in the "full-bust" category by virtue of having a *teeny* waist. Which brings me to what I think my point was when I started this: why do some companies insist on using a measuring tape for bras when we'd never do the same thing for the rest of our clothes? The jean size I wear varies from brand to brand (jeans are pretty much the only thing I buy), and I just try on styles and sizes until I get something I can work with. So why did it make sense to use a tape measure and just assume that was my bra size? I find the measuring tape method of fitting particularly odd when a site says things like "your band should be parallel to the floor all the way around" while simultaneously saying you should add four to your underbust measurement. Which is it?
Also, why did I never completely realize that cup size is dependent on band size? I'm a computer science major--I've done vector calculus--but never truly got that concept until someone pointed it out on a bra-fit blog, despite doing the math for years. And in a society that promotes the "size is just a number" mentality, why is there still so much fear for letters beyond "DD"? A "DD" means about as much as a being a "size 2" or "size 20" or wearing a size 5 shoe or a size 9 shoe--it means nothing, whether you're adding 4 or adding 0 or subtracting 2! If you're really tall and wear a size 2 and a size 9 shoe you look completely different than someone short who wears the same sizes. Maybe this is just the seamstress in me ranting; maybe it's the "I don't understand some things some women do because I'm surrounded by testosterone all day" computer programmer ranting against a lack of logic, but either way, I'm confused.
I get confused too. I actually took a long time to realise that cups where dependent on band size, because it seemed illogical to me. Why do they say its a certain cup size, but it's not?! Well, I've known since I started wearing better bras, but it took years before I actually realised it. I just thought a cup was a size, and not a matter of measuring the difference between bust and band size. Cause I thought that made more sense.
I agree with a lot of what you write.
But I'm ADHD too. (And video games and music is what keeps me occupied).