“Dohee, get up already.”
I ignored Mom and pulled the blanket over my head.
“If you don’t get up, should I wake you by force?”
I pretended to be asleep without answering.
When I still didn’t get up, Mom grabbed my blanket and threw it off.
Ah.
“Wake up, my daughter~”
“Ah, I’m not going to work today! It’s my day off!”
Sunday was the only day of the week I got to rest at home.
If it wasn’t today, I had no chance to recover from my exhaustion.
“Who doesn’t know that? I know it’s Sunday too.”
“Then why are you waking me up when you know that? I’m tired from practicing all week.”
Being forcibly woken up in the middle of a deep sleep was incredibly irritating.
“You can’t go get your uniform fitted any other day. Get up quickly. Since it’s Sunday, the uniform shop closes early.”
“Ugh... What a miserable life. Why did I become a trainee, as if I were going to enjoy some great wealth and glory?”
“My poor daughter has it so hard. But it can’t be helped, so hurry up and get up.”
“Ugh... What time is it...?”
“It’s ten. Hurry.”
“Ugh...”
With no other choice, I kicked off the blanket and got up.
When I went into the living room, it was silent. Doa and Dad seemed to still be asleep.
I’m the only one suffering...
After eating breakfast and getting ready to leave, I rode in Mom’s car to the uniform shop.
When we entered, there were lots of students like me who had come to get their uniforms fitted.
A middle-aged woman who looked like an employee approached Mom, greeted her, and spoke.
“Welcome~ You’re here to get a uniform for Seoul Suan Middle School, right?”
“Ah, yes, that’s right.”
“Then could you fill out this purchase form first?”
“Ah, yes, of course.”
After filling out the purchase form and handing it to her, the woman spoke to me.
“Oh my, you’re the prettiest student I’ve seen all day. How tall are you?”
“Ah, thank you. I’m 165 centimeters.”
“Oh my, kids these days grow so quickly.”
The woman took a shirt hanging beside her and handed it to me.
“This is size 66. Try it on first. The length might be a little long, but you’ll need to wear a size bigger since you still have some growing to do.”
“Yes.”
I went into the fitting room and changed into the shirt.
Hmm.
It feels pretty big.
When I stepped out of the fitting room, the woman looked at me and said,
“Hmm... The waist looks much too big. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s quite a bit too big.”
“I’ll measure your waist first.”
She came over and measured my waist with the tape measure in her hand, then spoke in surprise.
“Oh my, 23 inches? You’re awfully thin for your height.”
Then she lightly touched my stomach.
“You even have abs? Student, are you dieting?”
“No, not really.”
I just naturally developed abs because I was so active every day compared to how much I ate.
“Oh my, you have a perfect celebrity figure. I had quite a figure myself when I was young.”
“Ha-ha...”
The woman took a size 44 shirt from the rack and handed it to me.
“Then try this size 44 on.”
“Yes.”
I changed into the size 44 in the fitting room and came back out.
Even after going down two sizes, the waist was still a little loose.
The woman said,
“The length is perfect now, but the waist is still too big.”
“Yes, I think so too.”
“It can’t be helped. You’re still growing, so you’ll get taller and your chest will grow as well. For now, take a size 55 shirt with a looser fit and tuck it into your skirt, or have just the waist altered.”
“Yes.”
The woman took a size 44 skirt from the rack and handed it to me.
“This is a size 44 skirt. The waist can be adjusted with the buttons inside, so you don’t need to have it altered.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Then should we shorten the skirt a little?”
There was no reason to wear it short at school.
“No, you don’t have to shorten it. I’ll just wear it as it is.”
But Mom, who had been listening, said to the woman,
“My daughter doesn’t really know what looks pretty yet. Please shorten it to 15 centimeters above the knee.”
“Oh my, her mother knows what she’s doing. Then I’ll fold the extra length inside so she can let it back down as she grows taller.”
“Yes, please do.”
“Usually the student asks to have it shortened while the parents say no. This is the first family I’ve seen like this. Ho-ho.”
This is the first time I’ve seen one too.
In any case, after buying every part of the uniform, from the shirt and skirt to the jacket, hoodie, vest, and tie, we left the uniform shop.
After getting into the car to go home, Mom said,
“Dohee.”
“What?”
“Since we’re already out, why don’t we buy everything you need in one go so we won’t have to come out again?”
“Sure, whatever.”
“First of all, you’ve grown a lot, so none of your clothes fit anymore, right?”
“That’s true.”
“Then let’s go look at clothes first.”
“Okay.”
Mom and I drove to a nearby outlet mall.
“What kind of clothes does my daughter want to buy?”
“Just something comfortable to wear when I go practice, and some basic T-shirts?”
“Then for plain T-shirts, wear your mother’s size first.”
“Got it.”
“Oh? Come to think of it, your mother’s clothes should fit you now too.”
“...?”
“For clothes to wear outside, we should just buy things your mother would wear.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can wear them too, can’t you? Middle school students mostly wear their uniforms anyway. Right?”
She wasn’t wrong, but...
Why was this pissing me off so much?
But once the shopping actually began, Mom picked out my clothes first.
“Dohee, what do you think of this blouse?”
“This one’s pretty. Do you like this dress better in blue or beige?”
“I heard cropped tops are popular these days. Try one on, Dohee.”
“Dohee, do you want to try on this white tennis skirt?”
But something felt strange.
“Mom. Aren’t all the clothes you’ve been picking out things you want to wear yourself but can’t buy because it would be embarrassing?”
“Ha-ha-ha, you caught me?”
Ugh.
“You know how your mother only picks clothes she thinks will look pretty on you, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do, right?”
“I said I don’t.”
“I knew we were on the same wavelength. Now hurry up and try these clothes on.”
“Haah...”
I changed into the white tennis skirt and blue T-shirt in the fitting room and came out.
They are pretty, though.
I looked at Mom and said,
“How is it? Good?”
Mom gave me a thumbs-up.
“Absolutely gorgeous. Your face really brings it all together. Who did you take after to be so pretty?”
“Well, I must have taken after you.”
Mom and I were always trying to tease each other whenever we got the chance, but at least we got along well, so it was fine.
.
.
.
In my left hand were the cropped tops, blouses, tennis skirts, and denim skirts Mom wanted me to wear.
In my right hand were the tracksuits, hoodies, wide-legged pants, and sweatpants I wanted. Both hands were completely full.
“We’ve bought enough clothes now, so let’s go home.”
“We still have lots to buy.”
“What else is there?”
“Mom saw online that these days, middle school students have to buy designer shoes and bags so they don’t lose out among their friends.”
“That’s only true for immature kids. Besides, I’m a brand myself, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“Yeah. It would just be a waste of money.”
“Okay, then let’s go home.”
Mom and I got on the escalator down to the basement parking lot.
On the way down, Mom stopped at the underwear floor and said,
“You need underwear too! I almost forgot.”
“Underwear?”
“You’ve grown that much, so your chest must have grown a little too.”
“I guess...?”
Mom looked at me with a mocking expression.
“Don’t tell me it hasn’t grown at all?”
“Let’s go buy some right now.”
Mom and I entered the lingerie store.
Mom spoke to an employee.
“Hello. We came to get our daughter’s size measured.”
The employee smiled brightly.
“Oh, I see. Would you follow me?”
She led Mom and me to a fitting room enclosed by curtains.
Whew.
I’ll show them how much I’ve grown.
The employee picked up a tape measure and said,
“Now, could you take off your underwear first?”
“Um... excuse me...”
“Yes?”
“Do I have to take off those clothes too for the measurement?”
“Oh, no, that’s fine. We take the thickness of your clothes into account, so you only need to undo your underwear.”
“Okay. But I’m not wearing one with hooks that can be undone right away. It’s a junior bra, so...”
“Ah, in that case, I’ll wait outside. Take it off and call me when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
Whew... Even though she was a woman, it was still embarrassing to show myself to her.
After taking out and removing my underwear, the nerve-racking measuring finally began.
“Let’s start by measuring your underbust, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Please take good care of me.”
“Ha-ha, of course.”
The employee began measuring me with the tape.
“Oh my, I knew you were thin, but you’re extremely skinny. You could be a celebrity.”
Yes... That’s what I’m planning to become.
“Your underbust is 67 centimeters.”
“Now I’ll measure your bust, okay?”
Please.
Let me tease Mom.
“Your bust is 75.75 centimeters.”
That’s good... right?
“The difference is 8.75 centimeters, so you’re a 65A cup.”
Ah.
“She’s an A cup. Pfft-ha-ha-ha!”
“I’m still growing, you know? I went from an AA cup to an A cup!”
“Not 75A or even 70A, but 65A. Pfft.”
“Ah. If I gained weight, I’d be a 70A.”
“Sure, Mom’s skinny too~”
Wow, this was seriously pissing me off.
“Then you get measured too, Mom.”
“Huh?”
“I said you should measure your bust too. What, are you chicken?”
“Fine. I’ll show you.”
.
.
.
It was time to measure Mom’s underbust.
“Oh my, you’re very thin too. I guess your daughter takes after you.”
“Ha-ha-ha, thank you.”
“Your underbust is currently 71 centimeters. What size are you wearing now?”
“A 75A.”
“Ah, then size 70 would fit you better than size 75.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. So if you’re wearing a 75A, your actual size would probably be a 70B. Now let’s measure your bust.”
Please.
“Your bust is... 82.3 centimeters. You’re a 70B.”
Ah.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Pfft.”
“Ah.”
“I told you, I’m a B cup.”
“Ah.”
“What a pathetic loser.”
“Ah.”
Perhaps the employee felt sorry for me as I was being teased, because she spoke to me.
“How old are you, student?”
“I’m... fourteen...”
“Oh my, if you’re only fourteen, then 65A is an excellent size.”
“Really...?”
“Of course. Breasts can keep growing until high school, and they especially begin growing in earnest during middle school, so your current size means nothing.”
“Right...?”
“Of course~”
That’s right.
I knew this would happen.
“So you’re a terrible mother who’s happy to beat a fourteen-year-old immature little girl.”
“Official statement from Mom: There’s no such thing as a 165-centimeter immature little girl.”
I searched for information on breast development on my phone and showed it to Mom.
“Look. Just like the employee said, it says they grow the most during middle school.”
“Lee Dohee will never beat her mother, even after another ten years.”
I’ll become a C cup somehow, even if it kills me.