12 Things People Do in Dressing Rooms That Nobody Talks About (And Why We’re All Secretly Guilty)
Dressing rooms are strange little spaces where our quirks come out in full force. Once that curtain closes, it’s a whole different world—full of secret rituals and odd habits that rarely get discussed.
These are the kinds of things people do in dressing rooms that nobody admits to out loud but everyone secretly knows about. You might be surprised by how much goes on behind that curtain while you’re changing.
Trying to convince yourself that jeans do indeed stretch like magical yoga pants
You slip into a pair of jeans that feel tighter than a can of sardines. But hey, you tell yourself, these bad boys stretch.
Just like your favorite yoga pants. They’ve got “stretch” in the name, after all.
You wiggle a little. Maybe do a squat or two right there in the dressing room.
Then there’s the secret weapon: spraying the jeans with water or fabric relaxer before putting them on. You figure if damp jeans can loosen up, why not?
And if they don’t, you’ll just keep pretending. After all, it’s not denial if it helps you leave the store with new pants.
Checking your reflection in every mirror to make sure you didn’t just discover a new double chin
You walk into a dressing room and suddenly become a mirror detective. You check every angle like your life depends on it, hunting for that sneaky double chin you hope isn’t there.
You twist your head, tilt your chin, and maybe make a weird face or two—all to make sure it’s not following you around today. Because if there’s a new double chin, well, that calls for an emergency snack reevaluation.
Each mirror gets a thorough inspection, even the tiny ones you barely notice. You might find yourself in the weird spot between “Is it really there?” and “Stop judging me, mirror!”
At some point, you start wondering if the mirror is playing tricks or if double chins reproduce when you’re not looking. You just want to leave the dressing room with your confidence intact and your chin as undiscovered as possible.
The frantic quest for the tiny hook to hang your clothes without causing a mini avalanche
You walk into the dressing room, bags full, arms heavy, trying to find that little hook on the wall. It looks simple, but it’s like hunting for a hidden treasure.
You don’t want to just toss your clothes somewhere and start a fabric landslide. That tiny hook feels more important than a lifeline.
You hang your jacket just right, hoping it won’t slip off or knock a pile of stuff on the floor. The last thing you want is your entire outfit crashing down like a domino effect.
Sometimes, the hook is too small, too flimsy, or just plain missing. Then you’re left juggling shirts and pants like a circus act.
You hesitate, weighing your options—wear the clothes inside out, carry them like trophies, or risk the avalanche again. In those moments, you realize how much a good hook could save your sanity.
Pretending the dressing room floor is a runway and giving an impromptu fashion show
You step into the dressing room and suddenly, the carpet turns into your personal runway. You strike a pose like you just stepped off a catwalk, even if the only audience is a confused mannequin or a stray hanger.
Your walk isn’t graceful—it’s a power walk. Sometimes you twirl, other times you exaggerate your sashay.
Who cares if the fitting room lights aren’t fashion show lights? In your head, they’re blinding spotlights.
You mime the music you wish was playing. Maybe it’s dramatic, maybe it’s pop.
Either way, your invisible beat fuels your strut. Bonus points if you use a scarf or a blouse as a prop.
Holding the door open for the next person and whispering, “May the fit be ever in your favor.”
You finish trying on that suspiciously tight shirt and decide to be nice. So, you hold the door open for the next person.
Then, you lean in and whisper, “May the fit be ever in your favor.” It’s your way of wishing them luck on their fashion quest.
It’s a secret code for “Good luck with that zipper” or “Hope those pants don’t turn into sweatpants.” You feel like a dressing room guardian, passing the torch softly.
And the best part? The surprised smile or confused look from the next person.
Secretly timing how fast you can change without the curtain falling down
You know that moment when you step into the dressing room, and the curtain starts to slide like it’s trying to escape? Suddenly, you’re not just trying on clothes—you’re competing in a weird game show called Don’t Let the Curtain Crash.
You glance at your watch or phone, timing how fast you can change before gravity wins. Five seconds to get a shirt off. Seven seconds to squeeze into those jeans.
All while giving your best “don’t make a scene” face. Sometimes, you even plan your moves strategically.
Quick yank to close the curtain, ninja-level step out, and BOOM—the curtain holds… barely. If it falls, you freeze, hoping no one heard the crash or saw your moment of defeat.
Using every inch of the creaky bench to pile up the ‘maybe’ clothes like a laundry mountain
You walk into the dressing room with a mission. But before you try anything on, your eyes fixate on the tiny bench shoved in the corner.
It’s not just a place to sit—it’s the perfect spot for your “maybe” pile. You start stacking clothes like you’re building a small, wobbly mountain.
Each shirt, dress, or pair of pants gets piled higher and higher. You tell yourself you’re just organizing, but really you’re making a colorful, crumpled mess.
The bench creaks under the weight, threatening to give out any second. You might try to convince yourself some of these clothes will magically jump back onto the rack.
Spoiler: they won’t. But that mountain? It’s now the centerpiece of your dressing room experience.
Whispering to clothes, “You’re coming home with me,” as if they understand
You know that moment when you hold up a shirt, look it dead in the eye, and quietly say, “You’re coming home with me”? It’s like you’re making a secret deal with fabric.
As if the dress or jeans can hear you and feel honored to be chosen. Maybe it’s your way of convincing yourself.
Or a way to seal the deal in your head before you even step up to the cashier. Either way, the clothes get your full attention.
You might even feel a tiny smile creeping up, like you just made a new friend. Sometimes you catch yourself doing this out loud in the dressing room, hoping no one heard you.
But hey, if a pair of pants could respond, they’d probably be saying, “Finally!” It’s a funny little ritual that makes shopping a bit more personal.
Trying to sneak a selfie but panicking when a staff member walks by
You think you’ve got the perfect angle. The lighting is just right, and your outfit looks amazing.
So, you pull out your phone and try to snap a quick selfie in the dressing room. But then, out of nowhere, a staff member appears like they have radar for sneaky selfie-takers.
Your heart races. One second, you’re a confident fashion icon.
The next, you’re awkwardly holding your phone down like it’s a secret spy gadget. You try to act natural, but it’s obvious you’re caught.
Maybe you smile nervously or pretend to check the price tag, hoping they won’t notice your red face or the dozen selfies you definitely did not just take.
Testing how many outfits you can squeeze into one fitting session without losing your mind
You walk into the dressing room thinking, “I’ll just try on a couple of things.” Two hours later, you’re on your third round of clothing piles.
Somehow, you’ve become an expert at fitting room Tetris. You haul in every outfit that catches your eye.
Shirts, pants, dresses—you don’t care if it’s practical. You want to know: how many outfits can you squeeze in without your brain screaming for mercy?
The mirror becomes a judge, silently evaluating your growing pile of rejects. You start mixing and matching like a fashion scientist, hoping for that one magical combo.
By the end, you’re exhausted but proud. You’ve tested your limits and maybe even created some new fashion crimes.
Doing that awkward shimmy dance to wriggle into skinny jeans like you’re defusing a bomb
You know the drill. You step into those skinny jeans in the dressing room and suddenly, it feels like a mission impossible.
You shimmy, wiggle, and twist like your life depends on it — because squeezing into denim that tight is no joke. That awkward shimmy is your secret weapon.
Shoulders back, hips forward, and a little shake to slide that last inch over your thighs. It’s less dance and more desperate negotiation with fabric.
And people outside the dressing room? They have no idea what kind of battle happens behind those curtains.
You might even throw in a little ankle wiggle or a sideways hop, just to convince those jeans to cooperate. By the end, you’re not just wearing jeans—you’re a champion of the shimmy.
And when you finally get them on, you feel like you just defused a bomb without blowing yourself up. Small victory, big relief.
Slipping shoes on and off as if your life depends on it because ‘barefoot in public’ is a no-go
In the cramped dressing room, you’re locked in a rapid-fire routine of shoe removal and replacement. One moment, you kick them off to let your feet breathe.
The next, you’re sliding them back on—because stepping out barefoot? Not an option.
It’s a wild balance between checking the fit of those new pants and keeping your toes hidden from the world. Maybe no one actually notices your socks, but it feels like everyone’s watching your moves.
There’s always that quick glance outside the door to make sure the coast is clear. When the dressing room door opens, the idea of going barefoot in public suddenly feels a lot more real.
You’ve developed superhero-level skills for slipping shoes on and off in record time. Just hope no one catches a glimpse of your secret foot freedom.
