December 4, 2012

December 4, 2012

I'm Buying Pants, Not Lumber

Christmastime, the season when we find ourselves trying to figure out what other people want to receive, when what we’re best equipped for is knowing what we ourselves want, and this is why everyone should just give gift cards.

Or is that just me? (And Rachel Green, who famously exchanged all her presents for store credit. You call us picky, we call ourselves DISCERNING.)

I find myself trying to shop for men’s clothing, and even online, it is awkward and I end up sweaty and tense. It’s like going to Macy’s minus the wandering through cosmetics. And I think the source of confusion stems from the crazy measurements of men’s clothing.

With women, it’s simple. One number. Eight. Fourteen. Zero. You have a number for tops and a number for bottoms. Sometimes, THEY ARE EVEN THE SAME NUMBER. Too easy. Sure, the numbers don’t translate into any apparent unit of measurement, but still. They have meaning because we give them meaning, like Twitter hashtags or the take-a-number system at the deli.

With men, there are numbers for necks and inseams and waists and OHDEARGOD. Every garment has, like, two numbers. MULTI-DIMENSIONAL garments, people. Perhaps the people who created this system thought we’d appreciate specificity. “You want a shirt for your husband, madam? Tell me exactly every torso measurement you can think of.” In the end, you have a shirt that fits really well, but also a wife who has killed herself.

In related news, happy holidays! Right? RIGHT?

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