The world, it is often observed, is becoming increasingly standardized. We mostly buy similar things—drinks, food and fashions—wherever we happen to be. However much we may resist this apparent trend emotionally and hope that it is only our imagining, intellectually we must accept that this brave new world has its advantages. For standardized products save time, reduce confusion, and may be cheaper and more predictable, especially when attached to a dependable brand. There is one market, however, in which the inclinations of our hearts and heads are aligned, and moreover are forcing things back towards variety: women’s clothing. There, the customer is queen, and she seems to prefer chaos to order. It is not the fashions themselves that are turning the clock back on standardization. Rather, it is the sizes in which women’s clothing is sold. Not so long ago, these sizes were numerical and orderly, even if the particular system used varied from country to country. It did not matter if a size 12 dress in Britain was called a 38 in the U.S. and a 44 in Italy, for a simple conversion chart would suffice. But that is no longer the case. Clothing sizes have become more and more a matter of vanity and not of measurement, for women have become larger in various ways. Not surprisingly, women would like to indulge their appetites and not be reminded by ever increasing dress sizes of the consequences for the waistlines. Some clothing firms have accommodated such desires by retaining the same sizing numbers but making the clothes larger. Others have resorted to soothing words—petite, regular and “missy”—that trade stark precision for comforting vagueness. In America, it is even possible to buy women’s clothes in size zero. Will the negative size be next? Men are, of course, going through the same expansion in bodily dimensions. They do not, however, have to deal with the same confusion. While it may occasionally be hard to work out what exactly is meant by “medium” or “extra-large,” mainly predictable indications of clothing sizes still predominate. Some suggest that this is because for men “bigness” does not carry the strong negative connotations that it does for women. Women, however, are finding that shopping is becoming difficult, because of the declining level of standardization in their clothing sizes: More things must be tried on, taking more time and buying online is a poor option. One is tempted to make the seemingly sensible proposal of introducing standardization once more, but this idea ignores the fact that there are powerful market forces—female preferences for clothing sizes that disguise fattened figures—that would resist such an imposition. An alternative suggestion that has been put forth is for clothing firms to agree on a standard sizing to be put on some sort of bar code or other marker unreadable to shoppers. In that case, those who wanted speed and clarity could easily obtain a size indicator free of obfuscation, while those who would rather deceive themselves and soothe their vanity could continue to do so by sticking to the written labels.