A Spanish retailer telling me I’m a large rubbed me up the wrong way

THIS week’s subject matter is underwear – knickers to be exact so don’t say you haven’t been warned! For those of you of a sensitive disposition I suggest you turn the page, or buy another newspaper. On second thoughts I want to keep my job so don’t buy another newspaper just turn the page!

Anyway I digress. As I mentioned last week I went on holidays for seven days and packed an excessive amount of underwear only to discover I needed more, half way through the vacation. Without going into too much detail I had packed the wrong colours, the wrong shape, just the wrong knickers so off I went to buy more.

Do you know how hard it is in Spain to find a pair of knickers with an actual backside in them? As in a good sturdy pair with a front and back to them not just two pieces of string and a sliver of polyester in between? It is practically impossible.

After visiting several retail

‘NO, NO NO, YOU ARE A LARGE,’ SHE ANNOUNCES MATTER OF FACTLY. MY FIRST REACTIONWAS, ‘CHEEKYWAGON! HOWDARE SHE!’

outlets I finally tracked down a nice little shop that sold cotton knickers with backsides in them. There wasn’t a huge selection, but enough to serve my purposes. So I’m standing at a shelf where all the proper knickers are with a box of size medium undies in my hands when the shop assistant comes over, takes one look at me and shakes her head.

‘No, no no, you are a large,’ she announces matter of factly. My first reaction was, ‘cheeky wagon! How dare she!’ My second reaction which came seconds later, was verbal. ‘I beg your pardon? I am NOT a large. I have never been a large in my life.’

Now look before you all jump down my throat, there’s nothing wrong with being a size large but the fact of the matter is, I have never been a size large. Ever. So for someone, completely uninvited to tell me I’ve been wearing the wrong size all my adult life, well, you know, it rubbed me up the wrong way.

My denial didn’t seem to bother her at all, in fact it made her more determined to prove the point. ‘Si, Si, yes. In Spain you are definitely a large,’ she said as her finger swept over my body from head to toe. She then proceeded to take the aforementioned underwear out of the box and hold them up against me, smiling smugly whilst demonstrating said items would fit my girth perfectly.

What did I do? Well I did what any self-respecting cowardly Irish person would do – I bought the bloody knickers rather than cause a scene. I’d embarrassed myself enough already. I practically ran back to the apartment to try them on, visualising them pooling down around my ankles.

They didn’t. They were a little roomy but the truth is – they stayed up.

Sometimes your perception of yourself is totally different to how others see you.

Still don’t think I’m a large though!