AS THE TACO TURNS

(And takes the world with it)

By Beth Berube

 

taco_march2011There is a store in Seattle called Chicos. Their clothes buyers have a brilliant philosophy.  If a woman wears an off the rack size eight at every other store, she can try on a frock at Chicos in a size two. Voila! A perfect fit. A little confusing perhaps but hey, we all need an ego boost now and again.

In Mexico, the fashionistas have a sadistic polar opposite approach in sizing women’s clothing.  Case in point --- There are about three sizes to choose from in the women’s department.  The first is chica or small.  A blouse in this size might fit someone with the physique of a Chihuahua.  In fact, I don’t think I have seen anyone wearing a size chica unless they were in diapers.  The next step up is mediana. Medium. On most charts, this is where I would fall. The third size is Grande. Like the Rio Grande or the Grand Canyon. Not something a gal gets excited about pulling off the rack and trying on.

In the morning, I weigh about 130 pounds, give or take, depending on how many servings of flan I had the night before.  I am not skinny, but if I were to place a singles ad, I could describe myself as height/weight proportional and nobody would call me on it.

Last week I celebrated my 55th birthday and decided to go shopping in Manzanillo for a shiny, new blouse. I plucked a cute little number off the rack. It was medium, and I made a beeline for the changing room. I looked like an elephant sporting a tight teddy. Realizing that drastic circumstances call for drastic measures, I sauntered over to the lingerie department. There on a rack in front of me I found a Body Silhouette Contour Waist Length Shaping Bra that promised to reduce my girth by one whole size.

Shazaam!! Pop a crown on my head and point me towards the runway.  I wanted to be certain that it would fit, so I snatched up a size Grande and headed for home.  The reality of what happened next was savagely troubling.  I practically needed a crowbar to get it over my head and past my shoulders.  I enlisted my husband Larry’s help and between the two of us, we were able to make the necessary adjustments.

Unfortunately, the spandex material kept rolling up like a window sash, squeezing my solar plexus with boa constrictor strength.  Fearing I might pass out from oxygen deprivation, Larry mustered all the energy he had left and was able to extricate me. It’s so nice to have a man around the house.

My self-worth is in shambles and my pride smashed into subatomic particles. If a Chicos store ever opens around here, I will be their first customer.

Add comment

Security code
Refresh

The Golden Age Of Mexican Cinema By Herbert W. Piekow   In March 2010 I went to Museo de Arte de Zapopan, with my friend Juan Carlos, to see an
The Dark Side Of The Dream By Alejandro Grattan-Dominguez, Arte Publico Press 434 pages $11.95 US Reviewed by ROB MOHR (Initially published in The
The Tianguis By Catherine A. MacKenzie   Early Wednesday morning transforms an ordinary street in Ajijic into a party among strangers. Inside, the
The Heat Is On!  By Robb Howard   My eyes were burning and tears ran down my face. It began in October when I signed up for the competition. Sally
The General and the Jaguar By Eileen Welsome Reviewed by Jay Raymond White Copyright by Little, Brown publishers, New York, 2006. $19.95 in hardback.
Wordwise With Pithy Wit By Tom Clarkson   This morning, my pal F.T. – who shared the Iraq experience with me during my third trek there – forwarded
LAKESIDE LIVING Kay Davis Phone: 376 – 108 – 0278 (or 765 – 3676 to leave messages) Email: kdavis987@gmail.com November
Front Row Center By Michael Warren    The Pajama Game By Richard Adler and Jerry Ross Directed by Peggy Lord Chilton Music directed
Every Word  Important By Herbert W. Piekow   Every word a writer writes has meaning yes, sometimes they never get published or the book
LEGERDEMAIN—Italian Style By Jim Rambologna   Enzio Grattani was the Editor-in-Chief of a local rivista (or magazine) in Ajiermo, Italy. Locals