My Ongoing Battle with H&M’s Bizarrely Inconsistent Sizing System

So there I was last Tuesday, sitting at my desk in our Chicago office with exactly three different article deadlines breathing down my neck, when my editor shoots me a text. “Can you cover that sustainable fashion panel Thursday evening? Dress code is creative business casual.”

Creative business casual. You know what that means? Absolutely nothing. Could be anything from “jeans without visible stains” to “look like you belong in a Brooklyn art gallery but also maybe work at a bank.” I glance down at my current situation—sweatpants with what I’m pretty sure is yesterday’s coffee stain and a Vampire Weekend tour shirt from when I was still in college—and realize I’ve got a problem.

This is how I end up sprinting through H&M during my lunch break with exactly 47 minutes before I need to be back for a client call. H&M, that Swedish retail maze where the sizing system seems like it was designed by someone who’s never actually met a human being in person. The place where I consistently have what I can only describe as clothing-related existential crises.

I grab an armful of stuff in what should theoretically be my size and head to those fitting rooms with the fluorescent lighting that makes everyone look like they’re dying of consumption. This is where I’m about to relearn a lesson I somehow keep forgetting: H&M clothes are apparently designed for beings who survive entirely on air and the occasional vitamin gummy.

First pair of chinos won’t even make it past my thighs. Not even close. The second pair technically goes on but creates this waistband situation that reminds me of those old Pillsbury dough boy commercials, you know? Third pair fits around the waist but apparently assumes I have the proportional leg length of a stork.

Twenty minutes later I emerge with exactly one item that fits—a plain black t-shirt I could’ve bought literally anywhere else for probably less money and definitely less psychological trauma.

This isn’t just me, by the way. My buddy Mike, who has that classic former college basketball player build (meaning he actually fills out his clothes like an adult human should), describes shopping at H&M as “entering a funhouse designed by someone who hates people with shoulders.” My girlfriend tried on a dress there last month that was allegedly her size and couldn’t even get it over her head. Not because she’s large—she’s tiny—but because H&M apparently designs for a species that doesn’t have shoulder blades.

After years of this madness—and I mean years, because I’m apparently a slow learner—I’ve started to figure out what actually works when you have a body that exists in three dimensions instead of two.

First thing you need to know: vanity sizing doesn’t exist at H&M. Most American brands have gradually made their sizes bigger while keeping the same numbers, so you feel better about yourself when you’re shopping. H&M said “nah” to that whole concept. They stick with European sizing that runs smaller than what we’re used to here. If you’re normally a medium, you’re probably looking at a large or XL at H&M. If you’re usually an XL, well, good luck. You might need to venture into their plus section or just accept that H&M isn’t for you, which honestly might be the healthier choice mentally.

I spent probably two years insisting I was still a medium there despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. There’s something uniquely humbling about literally not being able to get your arms through the armholes of a shirt in your “normal” size. Now I automatically grab at least one size up and save myself the ego bruising.

But here’s where it gets really weird—the sizing isn’t even consistent within the same store. H&M runs all these different lines under one roof, and each one fits completely differently. Their basic stuff runs the smallest. The Divided line (which I think is aimed at people who are still growing) is slightly more forgiving but still cut for humans who’ve never discovered the joy of actual food. The Premium collection sometimes acknowledges that people have depth as well as height and width, but not always.

And don’t even get me started on how they change the cuts seasonally. That perfect t-shirt you found last spring? This spring’s “identical” version will somehow be two inches narrower in the shoulders and made from material with all the give of a medieval torture device.

I asked an H&M rep about this once for a piece I was writing, and she said they “regularly update fits based on current trends.” Which is corporate speak for “we’ll randomly change the dimensions whenever we feel like it, hope you can keep up.”

So what actually works for people with normal human proportions? After conducting extremely scientific research (meaning I’ve wasted countless lunch breaks in their fitting rooms), here’s what I’ve learned.

For guys with any kind of athletic build—and by athletic I mean you occasionally lift something heavier than your laptop—stick with their regular fit shirts. Size up. Always size up. And look for anything with stretch material. Their slim fit shirts are designed for people shaped like drinking straws. Their “muscle fit” should come with a warning label because it’s basically medical compression wear disguised as casual clothing.

The blazers are actually not terrible, especially the unstructured ones from their premium lines. They tend to have more reasonable cuts through the chest and shoulders, though the sleeves often run short. If you’ve got longer arms, plan to wear them pushed up or budget for alterations.

Pants are where things get truly nightmarish for anyone who’s done a squat in the last decade. Their slim fit can barely accommodate a normal human thigh, let alone anyone who’s spent time in a gym. The skinny fit seems designed for people whose legs are purely ornamental. Your best bet is their straight fit or relaxed fit, which actually acknowledge that humans have things like quadriceps and calves.

I’ve watched female friends navigate this chaos too, and honestly, they have it worse. My friend Sarah wears a consistent size 8 in most stores but has H&M items ranging from size 8 to size 14 in her closet—all of which fit her exactly the same. “Their size 12 fits identical to my Levi’s 8s,” she told me while stress-eating mall food court Chinese after a particularly traumatic shopping experience. “Explain that to me.”

The women’s tops seem more forgiving than bottoms, but their basic t-shirts and tanks run ridiculously small through the bust and shoulders. Dresses fall into two categories: shapeless sacks that somehow look good on everyone, or structured pieces that look good on maybe three people worldwide. No middle ground.

What makes all this extra maddening is that the inconsistency isn’t just between different types of clothes—it’s between identical items. I’ve literally held up two of the same shirt in the same size and watched them differ by what looked like inches. This isn’t unique to H&M (most fast fashion has this problem because of how they manufacture), but H&M seems to embrace the chaos more than most.

My friend Ashley showed me her H&M collection once—a completely random mix of sizes from XS to XL, all of which fit her perfectly. “The size is just like a starting suggestion,” she explained. “Not actual information.”

This makes online shopping basically impossible. That shirt that fit great in the store? Order it online and it might show up in a completely different dimension despite having the same size label. I’ve learned to never order anything from H&M that I haven’t physically tried on, which defeats the entire point of online shopping.

A fit model I met at a networking event explained why H&M sizing feels so disconnected from reality. Most fast fashion brands design digitally and then check the sample on maybe one or two fit models who are chosen specifically because they match the brand’s ideal proportions. Translation: they’re designing for the body they want you to have, not the body you actually do have.

Despite all this madness, there are actually some decent finds if you know what to look for. Their knitwear tends to be more forgiving than woven stuff. Anything with stretch material works better for real human bodies. Oversized cuts, when you can find them, usually work better than their standard fits for anyone with actual muscle mass or curves.

My strategy now is to completely ignore the size label and just grab multiple versions of anything interesting. I routinely take the same item in three different sizes into the fitting room. It’s time-consuming and occasionally soul-crushing, but it’s the only way to navigate a sizing system that seems designed by aliens who’ve only heard humans described secondhand.

What kills me is that H&M actually produces some really good designs at prices that don’t require selling a kidney. Their designer collaborations bring interesting styles to regular people. Their sustainable lines use materials that don’t destroy the planet. Their basics could anchor a solid wardrobe—if you could figure out what size to buy.

I did eventually find an outfit for that panel, by the way. Black jeans (two sizes up), an oxford shirt (one size up, still tight across the shoulders), and an unstructured blazer that somehow fit perfectly off the rack—which I’m still convinced was some kind of retail miracle.

The cashier looked at my selections and said, “Did you check the sizes? Most people need to size up here.” When I told her I already had, she just nodded. “Smart. I work here and I get it wrong half the time.”

That might be the most honest assessment of H&M sizing I’ve ever heard. Even their own employees can’t predict what’ll fit.

So next time you’re in an H&M fitting room wondering if you’ve somehow grown three inches wider since breakfast, remember: it’s not you. Their sizing exists in some parallel universe where humans evolved differently—narrower, longer, and apparently without the need to ever lift their arms above their heads based on how restrictive most of their sleeves are.

Go in prepared for chaos, bring patience, and maybe grab lunch first. Nothing makes bizarre sizing worse than being hangry under fluorescent lights. Trust me on this one.