So continuing on our weekend theme, I’d like to address the pleasant flip side to the fact that too many Americans are eating those huge portions served at so many restaurants and becoming super-sized themselves.

Today I gleefully swung by a Target in suburban Denver. I saw the cutest pearl-gray Isaac Mizrahi dress and a killer pair of pants. I tried on a medium in the dress, my normal size. And it hung off me. So I tried a small. It too was much too big. And so, in disbelief, I returned to the rack and got an extra-small. And it fit perfectly. Certain this was just some weird anomaly or a design flaw with the dress, I continued to try on a Size 8 in the pants, my normal size. You could have slipped two of me in them. I ended up with a 4.

Now listen, people. I am not reporting these developments to boast that I am some lithe little whippet. I am five-foot-four and weigh 135 pounds. I’m sorry, but that’s not an extra-small or a Size 4 on any planet in the world. My daughter is five-six and weighs 110. There is not a thing on Planet Target that would fit her.

You see what’s happening here, don’t you? The food manufacturers/restaurant industries are making people larger, and so clothing retailers, fearful women will get too depressed if they find they’re now wearing Size 14 instead of the 10 they wore before they were super-sized, are making sizes bigger so that people will continue to shop.

I will endeavour to remind myself as I settle in to live here for years that clothing manufacturers are LYING to me. Because if I start to believe the lie, I too will be hoovering massive portions every day, telling myself: “Hey! Why not? You’re an extra-small!”