So, It's NOT the Simple Things

So, apparently, I don't fail at measuring.  I fail at mind reading.

I went to exchange my capris today, and sheepishly told them that I'd like to try on a pair before I exchanged them.

I went and tried on the next size smaller.

Yeah, too big.

So I got the next size smaller yet.

A bit loose, but I like my clothes loose.  If I were the form-fitting type, I probably could have gone one more size smaller.

So I went to pay, and they asked what size I'd ended up with.  I told them, and they asked where I'd gotten measured -- at their Reseda store (which I didn't know existed) or at the Northridge store (which I hadn't known existed until I asked google for a closer place than Burbank to exchange them in the first place).

"I measured myself," I said.

"Oooh," the saleslady (who was...petite, shall we say, and not someone you generally see working at a plus-size clothing store -- which, of course, made discussing my larger size fun).  "See, when we measure people in the store, we tell them to buy two sizes smaller than what the measurements say."

Um.

** spoowriter raises hand **

If you consistently tell people to buy two sizes smaller...why not change your sizing chart?  Just sayin'.  I mean, what if I'd ordered them online?

Still -- very comfy, now that they fit.  They also look like capris, instead of just-a-bit-too-short pants, now that they fit.

ETA:  D'oh.  Apparently, I also fail at not-losing-Matilda.  So much for making homework tonight.  However, the kids are absolutely loving the book.