And you thought bathing suits made you look fat.

I picked up my chef’s jackets today. Chef’s uniforms are beginning to shatter my idea of looking cool as a chef. Maybe since I am the equivalent of less than a freshman right now, I’ll eventually work towards getting an outfit that doesn’t make me look both short and fat.

The Outfit
My friend Veronica accompanies me to B&R uniforms on 25th Street and 2nd Avenue to pick up my chef’s uniform. She’s nothing short of enthusiastic about this excursion during our lunch hour. Later on she'll realize that we aren’t going to my actual school, but just a uniform store – the same one that nurses, surgeons and janitors use. Neither are we picking up my chef’s tools either. But the good friend that she is maintains a still-audible level of enthusiasm when we reach the store, and oh god, she brings her camera. For my mother’s sake, I am glad she does. For the sake of my dignity, I wish she hadn’t.

Another one of my Cuehlo synchronicities – the man who helps me is Filipino and asks me if I am too. I answer him in one of the few Tagalog words I know, but totally play it off as if I am completely articulate. I say "Oh, Oh" (pronounced Awh, awh), which means yes.

He gives me a size small coat, which must be small in ogre, because it’s still huge on me, and predictably long – that I was expecting. They don’t carry extra small.

Then come the chef’s pants, the tiny checker board pants that all chefs wear. He looks at my waist and says, what are you a 30 or bigger? My boyfriend is a 31 waist. I tell him that a 30 would be fine, hoping it would be huge on me and that he feels bad. I walk into the fitting room and, damn it, they just fit. These pants are unisex, so the waist fits about 2 inches above my belly button. How could this possibly be a size 30 waist? I defeatedly ask for a larger size, fearful that these pants would shrink in the wash. He practically tells the universe, like the lotto guy commercial, than he’s about to give me a SIZE 33 WAIST. Thank you sir. Everyone in Beijing probably heard you.

The size 33 is looser and how nice for me, it’s even higher above my belly button.

I get the rest of my gear – aprons and towels – and we’re off to the register. He tells me I’m all set, and I say my other word in Tagalog, “Salamat.” He says you’re welcome…in English.

When I get home I try it on hoping that it would look better once I am in the house and can make the necessary adjustments my way. By the look on Jay's face, it doesn’t get any better. He asks me to get ready for a picture. I tuck the jacket into the pants and take a hair clip and dart the back of my coat to give some semblance of a waist.

Apparently, looking cool isn’t going to be part of being a chef.