While watching an episode of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”, Carson took an unfortunate subject to buy some new clothes, and I had a sudden realization. As the fashionably inept heterosexual stood helplessly, Carson grabbed sweaters and pants from racks and shelves. Everything the man tried on fit him, without sucking in, pained facial expressions or unnecessary discomfort.

I recalled my own history with dressing rooms and three-way mirrors and felt a wave of jealousy pass over me. Why is it so easy for men to shop?

Now, clearly this man, along with every other straight man lucky enough to be redone by the Fab Five, had the advantage of a fashion expert. He also had access to an unlimited budget – I don’t know about you, but when I shop, I generally buy one thing at a time or at most a few items to intersperse among the old clothes in my tragically bare closet. This man returned home with an entirely new wardrobe.

Such injustice aside, let me present my realization: Girls make shopping hard. What’s that? Not surprised?

Once girls reach a certain age, we become highly distressed shoppers. When we are young, we are easily persuaded by our moms and aunts and older sisters to buy cute, colorful outfits complete with puffy embroidered ballerinas, teddy bears and other such characters. Anything in pink is a given; it goes into the basket without further discussion.

When we begin dressing ourselves, we stumble along alternative routes of fashion. Some of us wear clothes passed down from older siblings, regardless of gender appropriateness or the idea that the clothes might no longer be “in.” The length might not be quite right, there may be rips and tears, but the benefits are innumerable. No one can dispute the value of a hand-me-down. I myself spent many years in my brother’s old T-shirts and shorts (okay, fine, I am still wearing some of those).

Finally, we ascertain the need to buy our own clothes. We drag parents to malls, beg to be dropped off with friends and cash and return with a random assortment of outfits. If you’re that sort of girl. I, on the other hand, was terrified of shopping and still am. When I tagged along with my cooler, more popular friends, I trailed my fingers along the racks of clothing without stopping at any one display; in this way, I avoided the possibility that I would appear to be choosing something god-awful. I managed to survive in casual gear somehow, riding easily under the stereotype of “athlete.”

But it is in these formative years that the problem of female shopping takes root. Let me illustrate for you:

Shopper A is a young woman who wishes she were just a bit smaller – in the waist, in the hips, in the legs – somewhere, everywhere. As she peruses the stores, there is one thing that all of the items she chooses have in common: They are all a size or two below what she normally wears. After standing in line with similarly hopeful girls for too long, she locks herself in the dressing room, strips down to her underwear, looks herself over in the mirror and begins to try on her choices. One pair of jeans does not fit over her calves. Another pair will not button. The sweaters and blouses are too tight around the arms or chest. Within a few minutes, Shopper A has thrown all of her ill-fitting items to the floor in a pile. She leaves the dressing room and returns minutes later with all the same choices in her size. She tries them on and buys them. Her mentality: Soon I’ll be that small.

Shopper B is a young woman who feels quite smug about her size. She is happy with the shape of her body and the circumference of her thighs. She brings clothes that she knows are too big into her dressing room. “Oh dear,” she sighs each time she tries something on that hangs just a little too loosely. She leaves her pile of clothes and returns with all the same outfits in her size. She tries them on and buys them. Her mentality: I’ll never be that big.

Imagine the tension, jealousy and rage if Shopper A and Shopper B are shopping together? Imagine the additional stress that comes when women shop without necessity, when they shop to relieve boredom or stress, to kill time, to …?

I give you distressed female shopper and her faithful friends.

Shopper C is a man. He picks out clothes in his size and buys them, thereby eliminating the need to spend time in a dressing room, thereby eliminating all psychological maladies that accompany above mentioned female shoppers. His mentality: I am this size.

And Shopper D is me. I wait until the last possible moment to buy something that I really do need. When I get to the stores, Shopper A and Shopper B have bought all the things I wanted and gone off to flirt with Shopper C – they leave me with jeans and sweaters and blouses in sizes too big and in sizes too small, all in piles on the dressing room floor. I leave the piles of clothes and do not return. My mentality: I think I saw a bookstore somewhere around here.

Rebecca Beyer, a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press.