Because it Bears Repeating

I've talked about this before in various places and various formats, but I'm going to talk about it again. 

Clothing companies hate me because I am, as the kids say, plus sized. 

They really hate me when it's time to dress up. They seem to like me okay for t-shirts and the occasional elastic waist denim pant? jean? What are those unholy creations? Other than that, they hate me. I was reminded yesterday how much they hate me when I had to go shopping for a black skirt. I went to A Major American Retailer specifically because, well, one, it was a free-standing store not in a mall, and two– they are known for dressing the career gal and career gals wear black skirts. 

But let me back up.

You see, I'd ordered a black skirt a week or so ago. I didn't really want one, but I found NOTHING appropriate to wear to This Thing I have to go to where they frown on you for wearing drawstring sweats and flip flops. Fascists. Anyway, my failsafe was this kind of nifty sweater/black skirt combo. Except my black skirts didn't fit anymore because they were left over from my gainful employment days when I routinely walked a 150,000 square foot building three or four times a day. In other words, my ass has gotten huge. I order this skirt and AFTER the order is placed, card charged,  and order picking begun, I find out the skirt is on back-order and will not ship until after This Thing.

Fascinating, right?

At this point, let me step aside to say that should be illegal. There is no reason to let me know an item is on back-order AFTER my order is placed. I'd have picked something else. You wouldn't lose the sale. Now, now you're going to lose the sale because you told me orders can't be canceled while they're "in-process" and so when that stuff gets here, I'll be sending it right back with a love letter inside. 

Okay, so now we're at the point where I'm inside this Major American Retailer and I go to the Women's Department for a black skirt. And I get it. IT.  I. GET. IT. There is one–ONE–skirt in the entire department and fortunately it's black, and my size is one of the THREE they have. 

What fresh hell is this?

So this Major American Retailer has a survey on the bottom of the receipt, and I go online and do the survey and say, you know, I'd totally get over the fact that NO ONE spoke to me THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS THERE– INCLUDING CHECK OUT– if you had more than six racks of clothes for me to choose from. I wouldn't care. In fact, I continue, your associates could stand at the door and fling poo at me. I'd be totally fine with that if you had  any prints that didn't look like the dog threw Skittles up on double knit polyester. 

I'M SAYING YOU COULD FLING POO AT ME IF YOU HAD CUTE CLOTHES!!

I don't understand. I really don't. If the average size is 14, wouldn't you think you'd want a lot of stuff in that size? I would think, if I really taxed my ladybrain, if I were a buyer I would base my runs from the most popular and work out. Now, I know this is not how buyers buy. And that's stupid. If I'm the head of a private label for a Major American Retailer, I might think, wow, this is a huge opportunity for us. We know that plus sizes tend to sell better at full price than misses, we know our customers come in a wide range of shapes, so why don't we do something crazy and make clothes for her? Clothes that come in other colors besides black and dog puke.

I am so, so tired of this shit. I mean, I'm 5'9". If I were a size 2, people would be holding me down and forcing feeding me pie. Look, it's not like I'm sitting around eating bon bons every day, okay? I exercise EVERY DAY. I have places to go that (unfortunately) require that I not wear sweatpants or (fortunately) double knit poly pull-ons. I have money to give you. Now.

Each time a plus size woman walks in a store and is greeted with the kind of psychedelic, vomitus dreck that's out there, that retailer is saying, We don't care about you or your money. We'd rather not have it. We don't need it. 

If you can sew, have been told you have great style, and are interested in working for free for several years, hit me up. I'm seriously considering walking the talk.

'Cause I'll be happy to take your money. 

3 thoughts on “Because it Bears Repeating

  1. I may like some bling too, but not every damn day. I’m a grown up and while I have a Ladybrain (I say incredibly sarcastically), I am capable of deciding for myself when I’d like to be blinged up and when I’d like to simply fade into the wall.
    But you know what makes clothing look expensive in my opinion? Patterns that line up correctly at the seams, finished hems without strings hanging off and that don’t come unstitched the first time you wear it, buttons that don’t fall off before I get the clothing out of the store, buttons that are actually the color they are rather than spray painted (or however you do that) so that it flakes off, skirts that are lined, shirts that aren’t 100% see through, just a smidge more material so every button down shirt doesn’t gape over my boobs (guess what? I’m a curvy woman and I have boobs!) and proper tailoring.
    I have a good idea of the designer label you are speaking of and they USED to make fantastic quality plus size clothes that while they were a tad bit more expensive, they were well worth the price because they were classic and could be worn for many seasons. Not anymore.
    That’s the other problem with the bedazzling of clothing . . . it can often only be worn for one or two seasons because that design is no longer fashionable OR (and this is far worse) the bedazzling comes off! As soon as all that bedazzling on one ass cheek starts to come off, the jeans are done and then it’s just wasted money.
    I think I’m done with my rant.
    Oh, by the way, I did actually find some very cute things yesterday. It took far longer than it should have, but I did have some success. No pants, mind you, but a bunch of mix/match tops to go with skirts I have and a great dress.

  2. Most of my “plus size” mannequins were a size 10 or 12 with Barbie-like proportions, and many of the lines we carried didn’t do a 12 or 14, so we had to pin the mess out of those clothes. It made me stabby, too.
    Oh, what is this with stuff on the pocket of jeans? I HATE that. I’ll accessorize my ears, but can we leave my butt alone?
    I talked to a rep for a once HUGE company that did mainly career wear, and we were talking about one of their major key items for spring/summer which was a linen big shirt. Just basic, button up the front, squared hem, good fabric, great price. I had probably 5 or 6 of the things. Anyway, they had “updated” this shirt so it had chiffon detailing. I’m like, what? What is this? And she said, well, people like details. It makes it seem more expensive and unique.
    Well, I’m not saying I know better than this company named after its founder, BUT shortly after that is when retailers started giving her less and less space, and now I see after several attempts at reinvigorating the line–including making a MAJOR designer the creative head–it appears to be a private label for the Major Moderate Retailer I went to the other day.
    LESS crap makes a piece of clothing look sleeker, more stylish, more flattering, and more expensive. How many Armani suits do you see bedazzled? MORE crap just makes it look cheap.

  3. I went to do some shopping today after discovering that NOT 1 THING in my entire closet fits (because it’s too big) and I don’t have time to have it tailored before Friday. I too walked into a Major Retail Store that is known for catering to plus size women, (actually, it’s their only market) and found a great deal of clothing that appearing to have been visited by the dog puking skittles. I also discovered that every single pair of jeans in the store had bling on the ass. Um, hello. NO ONE wants bling on my ass. It already gets enough attention and does not need another a neon sign pointing out its size. My other major beef is why retailers feel a need to pin everything on the mannequins so that it appears to be a size 2. Hello! This is a store catering to women starting at a size 14. They all know they are plus size and do not live with the delusion that they are somehow a size 2. All I want is to walk out of a store feeling a little better about myself and my body than I did when I walked in. Hell, I’d settle for feeling the same about it, but that never happens. I always inevitably walk out feeling ugly and disgusting. It would make me feel better knowing that Angelina Jolie or Julia Roberts (or whoever is the hot actress right now) feels this way when she goes shopping too, but I doubt it does.

Just spit it out, already!

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