I've lost count of how many times I've walked into a boutique, fallen in love with a piece, tried it on, and had it not fit. And I've lost count of how many times my next sentence to the salesperson was some version of:
"No lah, it's not the clothes, it's just me."
I didn't mean it as a lie. I said it to be polite: to let her off the hook; to end the moment gracefully. But looking back, it was also the only explanation anyone had ever given me. Nobody in that boutique was going to tell me the piece was cut for a body that wasn't mine. So I told myself it was mine to fix instead.
If you've ever done the same - quietly taken the blame so the label didn't have to, you might know exactly the feeling I'm describing.
Why size charts fail more often than they fit
It turns out I'm not the only one who's noticed this. A London-based veteran bespoke tailor, trained the old Savile Row way and now working in product development, wrote recently about why size charts fail so often. His point: standard charts are built around an average body - a number on a spreadsheet - not an actual woman. He points to body-measurement research showing that the numbers charts are built on - height, weight, age - barely explain how differently real bodies are shaped. Two women can share a height and a dress size and still carry themselves completely differently. He learned this first not from a study but from years at his mother's tailoring shop, fitting people one at a time. The lesson stayed with him: when something doesn't fit, look at the garment before you look at the body.
Different garments, the same story underneath
It's an interesting thing to hear from someone who has spent his career on trousers and jackets, not sports bras. His research is waist and hip. Ours is under-bust and bust, in wireless activewear. Different garments, same story underneath: a chart built from an average, used on bodies that were never average.
It doesn't matter whether anyone meant to
Here's the part worth sitting with, though. It doesn't actually matter whether a brand set out to exclude anyone, or just chose to make S, M and L and stop there. The effect in the fitting room is the same either way. She doesn't know why the piece didn't fit; she just has the outcome, and "it's me" is the only explanation most times. That's not anyone plotting against her. It's just neglect - a market that went on for years without pausing to ask.
How we measure fit instead - at rest and stretched
This is exactly why we built our own standard instead of relying on someone else's chart. We take four measurements - under-bust and bust, each at rest and stretched, because a number taken standing still tells you nothing about how a bra holds up once you're moving, and moving is the only moment that actually matters in activewear. It's not a bigger chart. It's a different question altogether; one built for the body that was never catered to in the first place.
One question before you go
So here's an invitation: think about the last time you said "it's me." Where else has that happened? We'd love to hear it. Save this if it felt familiar, and tell us your version in the comments. We're always listening.
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