I think it's safe to say that every woman would like nothing better than to sachet into the fitting room with several, single-digit-sized skinny jeans and slip effortlessly into them without needing a crane, a vat of grease, or a few Hail Mary's.
We've all experienced stressful visits to the fitting room, when nothing that supposed to fit actually fits, and the mirror seems like a magnifying glass illuminating every lump, bump, and imperfection under the cruel and unforgiving florescent lights.
I was talking about this to a colleague of mine who recently lost a significant amount of weight. She was recounting to me how refreshing it is to go shopping for clothes now, and how she is no longer subjected to the "Women's World" suits. She wondered why so many plus-sized women's suits came in obnoxious colors like purple, pink, and electric blue. Having no other alternative, she would grab an arm full of these pink and purple nightmares and head to the fitting room hoping for a miracle. There she stood looking like she was on her way to a Deaconess meeting. For years, she said, the thought of professional attire was frightening.
But now, after shedding so many pounds, she feels as though she is a part of entirely new world. She had traded pink and purple for navy and black and elastic waists for buttons, belts, and "hooks and eyes."