When size matters.

Recently my son and I watched Miracle, the Disney movie about the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team’s victory over the Russians. That game was a defining moment of my youth: the ultimate David and Goliath story where America took on the big, bad bully and won.  While my son enjoyed it, what struck me was that he couldn’t comprehend the “miracle.”  Why?  Because he’s only ever lived in a supersized America where the US portrays itself as the biggest, baddest and sometimes, yes, the bully on the block. 

Since 1980, whether it’s literal – like serving portions, cars, and McMansions – or philosophical, we’ve supersized ourselves into believing that size matters.  Twenty-five years ago, 7-Eleven introduced the Big Gulp at a whopping 32 ounces of soda.  That’s since been dwarfed by drink sizes measuring 44, 52, and 64 ounces.  Popcorn buckets at movies could now feed an entire third-world country.  Even the coffee cups from our grandmother’s china set are enjoying a second life – as espresso cups in a Venti Grande world.   

In the 1980s, I navigated my Honda Civic hatchback around a snowy, upstate New York college campus (with the help of sandbags in the back and the occasional push from a hockey player).  Today, despite global warming trends, the students all drive Jeep Grand Cherokees, Escalades, and, yes, I even saw a handful of Hummers on my last visit.  

But sometimes our “supersizing” conflicts with “downsizing” trends.  Companies grow globally, yet trim workforces locally.  Nanotechnology develops tinier components, yet we put them in bigger appliances.  And, as families get smaller, houses get larger.  Although, how else would we fit our 50-inch screen TVs into our living rooms?   

Then there are clothing sizes.  On a recent trip to LA, I discovered that they had basically downsized the clothing racks to carry only four sizes:  0, 00, bulimic and anorexic.  All made for women with minimal or no body fat.  Yet, with breast implants up 37% since the year 2000, clearly we want certain things bigger.   

This juxtaposition is having some funny results over in Paris, where the centuries-old couture houses are in conniptions because their standard pattern no longer fits the American undersized/supersized physique.  Sacre bleu! This is costing them countless valuable man-hours retrofitting garments that were never designed to be worn on a size-00, double-D body.   

I hadn’t realized how greatly American women differed from the rest of the world in this area, until a visit to a St. Tropez beach club.  To my surprise, I was often mistaken for a local, not due to my fluency with the French language (which is minimal at best), but due to my, apparently, un-American physique.  The fact that Pamela Anderson was getting married on a yacht just off-shore probably skewed their reference point a bit. 

But, as my European friends helped me play “pick out the Americans,” at the bar, I had to admit it became quite obvious which nationality felt that size really did matter. So when does the supersizing stop?  Probably not in the near future.  With China and India cutting us down to size demographically and technologically, we’ll likely feel the need to puff out our chests (literally in some cases), just to make sure the world knows we’re still a supersized nation.    

In the meantime, I’ll leave the supersizing to others, and introduce my son to another favorite Disney movie about the Olympics: Cool Runnings.  Perhaps the Jamaican bob sled team will help him understand that it’s not always about winning, being the best or even the biggest, but sometimes it’s a supersized achievement simply to finish a race that you started.  Ya mon! 

Article reprinted courtesy of the Cohasset Mariner. 

Diane K. Danielson is the CEO of www.DowntownWomensClub.com and a blogger for the Boston Globe and  www.womensDISH.com.