Thailand Day T+20 : A surprising disappointment

I slowly strolled through the now familiar ground floor of the shopping centre next to my hotel. It was after lunch and I thought it might be a good idea to stretch the legs. Looking through the shop windows during my walk, I slowed and stopped in front of a fashion store that I had passed many times. A sleeveless striped dress adorned a manikin in the window. It's smart collar and lapel outlined a pointed breast line that was completed by half dozen, medium sized silver buttons providing the front closure. It was beautiful, it was sexy, it was classy and, thanks to black and white striping, it was slightly retro. In other words, it was me and I wanted to try it on.


There's no secret that the petite Asian girls populating this part of the world wear a jealously small size dress and that local clothing sizes are often far too small for any of us who might claim to be average or larger in a western country. I was prepared for that and had already given up on many stores who's maximum sizing was a medium that barely reached from one shoulder to the other collarbone let alone other shoulder. Like I had previously said, being in a country with plenty of cheap clothing that I can't fit into is hell. However, you still have to explore the opportunities just in case you do come across that one find that will be the envy of everyone you know, so I bravely walked in and examined the dress on the rack.


To my surprise, amongst all the dresses was a size XL. I don't care what the label says and I don't get flattered by all this vanity sizing rubbish as long as I can buy what I want and it fits. From my research, a Thai XL might just fit me. I turned to look for the sales girl and found her standing right behind me patiently as they tend to do here. She used a bamboo pole to lift the dress off the rack (I neglected to mention it was a very high up rack) and directed e to the change rooms. I scurried in anticipation and glee.


Inside the change room, I undressed and unbuttoned the new dress. This was the moment of truth. I put my arms in the openings and smiled as a buttoned the waist. Perfect. But only for moment. It was perfect at the waist and I continued to button down to the bottom of the dress, but as I did so I was ever conscious of the prominent gap at the bust line. I held the button nervously and attempted to button it up. On the third attempt, after fumbles and struggles, the button was done up, but it was ridiculous. My breasts were obviously too big for this dress.


I stared, depressed, into the mirror switching my gaze to only alternate at these new bulges adorning my chest. To make matters worse, I was totally busting the seams as much as stretching them which meant that it probably would have fit if my breasts were anywhere between my original size and size smaller than what they were now. This was a nightmare and the vagaries of implant sizing had always left me fearful of the question, "What if my breasts don't end up the right size?"


With monumental disappointment, I changed back into my own clothes and handed the dress back to the sales girl with a smile. Walking back to the hotel, I couldn't help but look at all the girls walking past and analysing their proportions and wondering if mine had now been made out of shape.


I feel like I'm in a dangerous and vulnerable position at the moment. I haven't even left Thailand yet and I'm expressing doubts and possible regret over some part of my surgery. It's a grave moment indeed.