Lululemon sizes are confusing: How is this a size 16?

AFTER a stranger applauded me on the fact that I was at the gym while pregnant I knew it was time to do something.

After all, the last time I was actually pregnant was almost 16 years ago. This wasn’t a baby bump, it was er, a badly fitting top and really bad posture. Oh, and a very sweet tooth.

Given I was already at the gym and considering cutting out sugar (for what would be about the seventh time) the only immediate fix I could think of was to go and buy a better fitting top to wear to the gym. One that perhaps didn’t sit so snugly around my stomach.

I had already decided against going to Lorna Jane because their policy of not carrying bigger sizes offended me, although admittedly they do stock my size.

Which leads to the whole question of what my size really is …

According to recent ABS data, the average Australian woman weighs 71.1kg and is a size 14-16. If I take this to be gospel I am below average. I weigh just more than 60kg and take a size 10 at my favourite shops (vanity sizing is a wonderful thing) and a 12 at others.

So when I walked into Lululemon I was looking for a size 10, one can always be optimistic. But I took tops in a size 10 and size 12 to the fitting room, because clearly my optimism was tinged with a strong dose of realism. The size 10 did fit but I didn’t think it would be fair to the public if I wore it out, so I tried the 12 and it was perfect.

I had noticed, as I was rifling through the clothing, that they stocked a size 2 and I wondered if maybe they did a kids range as well. My realism was tending towards pessimism.

After clarifying that they didn’t actually stock clothes’ aimed at kids I decided to ask what the largest size was that they stocked.

“A size 12” I was told, “but it’s actually an Australian size 16”.

It turns out Lululemon uses American sizes. So a size 2 at Lululemon is really an Australian size 6, and a size 10 there is really an Australia size 14 etc. It’s confusing, I know!

I think the salesman was trying to assure me they stocked big sizes but all I heard was that I had actually just turned into a size 16 when I walked through their doors.

I wasn’t offended by being labelled a size 16 because I understand that it is just that, a label and I was still just more than 60kg and a size 10 in my favourite jeans. But I did wonder what I would pick from the delightful Lululemon range if I actually did take a size 16 in my beloved jeans.

I went home with my swish, new “size 16 in Australia” shirt and decided to check it out against my size 12 in Australia T-shirts of similar style and structure. Every top I measured my new one against was the same size or bigger.

Shocked? Not really. I knew from the start it wasn’t a standard size 16.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about the Lululemon size 2. Maybe it was a sample size or a travel size like those tiny toothpastes and shampoos you can buy if you are packing to go away and are restricted in the amount of fluid you can take on board an aeroplane.

Lululemon say they stock Australian sizes 6-16, but we know that’s “generous” speak for sizes 2-12. If the size 12 at Lululemon was the same as my actual Australian size 12 tops, I must assume the 2 is a 2, not the 6 they claim it to be.

If retailers of athletic wear claim there aren’t enough people buying larger sizes to warrant them stocking plus or even average size clothing, how are they able to justify selling a size 2, six times below the size of the average Australian women? Where are all the size 2 customers?

Lululemon, and retailers like them, are catering to a market that statistics say doesn’t exist but they are refusing to supply to the average size 14 women. By selling extremely small sizes they are duping us into believing our body shape is wrong, our size is incorrect and we should be aiming to be smaller — so small we fit into a size that didn’t even exist when we were growing up.

The big sized women do exist but clothes aren’t made for them. The size 2 woman would be an exception but there isn’t an item she can’t buy. It makes no sense to me.

Then again nor does the woman at the gym complimenting me on exercising during pregnancy … we all know not to mention a woman’s pregnancy to her until she’s in the final moments of labour.

Lana Hirschowitz is a blogger, writer and reforming toast lover. You can follow her on Facebook.

ncG1vNJzZmimlazAb6%2FOpmWarV%2Bhtqex0q2wpZ1fm660tMiopWiclai2qLrEq6popKWhwq2xzKilZquZr7K0ecearZ5ll6TBbrjAp5hmoJmnwKS0zrCgrbJdmLyvstSsnJ1nnprEtHnSraarsV%2BbgKWvxZxwcGxnbLOmfsVqb3KZlWWwpnzEbZifbWmasQ%3D%3D