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.
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.