Size 92

So a new store opened in town this week (clothing and household goods – like a Marshall’s or Ross I think) and from all I can tell, it’s the grand event of the month (if not the year). I didn’t think Omiya had enough cars to fill that parking lot, but maybe they’re importing them. I figured if everyone else is there, it must be good (besides, I’ve noticed that I get a LOT more stares than usual every time I walk around town in shorts – and now that I'm paying attention, I've seen no other adult wearing shorts. Since I’m not willing to roast in jeans, I’m guessing I need to get a couple of skirts).

Shopping for women’s clothes during a sale is something of a competition sport all of its own (another culturally independent concept apparently). Most people are pleasant and smile and nod and move over a little bit so you can get by. Kind of like jockeying for position during a bike race. You acknowledge someone coming up behind you with whatever breath you have to spare, and move over a little bit in case they want to pass. But you’d never give up your line to move over enough for them to ACTUALLY pass without interference. So you cruise around, looking for things that you might like (or, if you’re really feeling spiteful, for one of a kind things that you think the person behind you might like). When you find something, you grab your size and move on. The pro-shopper jumps in, grabs the item, and is gone before you can complain they cut you off and took the item you were looking at.

Now here’s where I got into trouble. I know my size in American, English, and European sizes. Apparently Japan uses NONE of those standards. Rather than seeing sizes from 6 – 18 on the racks, I was seeing anything from 56 to 96. How non-flattering! Bad enough to have to admit you’ve gone to a size 16. Now imagine you have to fess up to an 88!

The good news is that anything in the 90s is a tent. So finding things that are wide enough isn’t a problem. However, finding things that are tall enough ... that’s a different story entirely. And while you would think it wouldn’t matter in a skirt, it somehow does. The skirt that falls just below my knee looks silly cause it’s obvious it was meant to be ankle-length. And the shorter skirts are indecent even by Japanese schoolgirl standards.

Shoes ... that was just too depressing for words. There were no sizes per say. Just S, M, L, and LL. And finding out that LL shoes are too small for you takes you back to the days when your little sister used to call you bigfoot.

In the end, I bought a larger purse to carry around all the electronic gadgets I’m accumulating and left in defeat.