08/10/2026
Story time.
I ordered a "breastfeeding friendly" athletic tennis dress. I NEEDED it to be the one.
It was not the one.
I'm 38DDD, 44 bust, 38 under bust, size 16, hips out here living their own life, plus a c-section shelf that does not consent to tight waistbands. I got the XXL. Girl. The cup spillage was visible through the "modesty" flap, and that was with freshly expressed breasts. I do not want to know what that flap was going to do when I'm actually full later.
The panty lines. THE PANTY LINES. Y'all could've seen my choices from space.
And the armpit area gave zero shaping, zero smoothing, just let my side fat hang right out like it wasn't even trying. No side panel, no support, nothing. Just vibes.
Here's the thing though. When I go the other direction and wear oversized athletic sets or shapeless dresses to "play it safe," I just look like I'm wearing a laundry basket. Nothing skims, nothing shapes, I just disappear into fabric and somehow still feel bigger than I am. So it's not even a "pick your battle" situation. Too tight, I'm the main character for all the wrong reasons. Too loose, I'm a tarp with legs. There is no in between on the rack and I am tired of choosing between the two.
I just wanted something in the middle. Is that a crime. Is "fits and flatters and doesn't require negotiating with my own abdomen, my armpits, AND my milk supply" too much to ask.
My friend told me today that sizing standards historically didn't even bother measuring Black and Latina women. Cool cool cool. And I would bet actual money nobody in that lab had recently pushed out a human either, because postpartum bodies were clearly not invited to that meeting.
Bodies don't bounce back. They bounce sideways, they redistribute, they get a whole new belly with its own zip code. Make clothes for THAT. Not for the 12 people on earth shaped like your size chart.
Do better, clothing industry. I am not the outlier. I am the room.