I've been feeling fine about my weight, because I wear size 8 jeans. How bad could it be if I can wear a size 8? (No, I don't wear a size 8 top. I wear a medium, or sometimes even a large. But I'm able to rationalize that. I'm busty. That's okay, right?)
Well, yesterday I went to the doctor for a check up, and somehow I weigh more that I thought I did. Rather a lot more, actually. Nearly 30 pounds more. So I did some research and found out that the size four I wore 20-30 years ago would now be called a 0 or a 1. My size 8 is the equivalent of a size 12, back in the day.
Oh. My. Goodness.
How did that happen? I know how the weight happened; too much food and not enough dancing. But how did something as sacred as clothing sizes shrink so rapidly? It's not new; from the 1950s to the 1970s, a size 12 went down to a size 10. But it didn't stop there; sizes have dropped four more times in the past 30-40 years.
No wonder I've been able to wear the same size for so long, even though my old pants are too tight. And here I've been blaming the dryer. My jeans weren't shrinking, but the sizes were.
Time to shrink me, instead.