Dear clothing designers,
In my life, I have been everything from really thin to the border of really big (I never quite crossed into that territory). Along the way, I’ve had friends of various sizes and almost all of them had the same complaint.
It seems that most women’s clothing is designed for pre-pubescent hips and post-surgical breasts on an otherwise stick-figure body. In other words, no matter what her size, if a woman has curves, or doesn’t have skinny arms or legs, or happens to have an ass or hips, she is not going to find clothing that fits well.
As a young woman, my measurements could easily fit into all the cute, teeny-tiny clothes that were in all the stores. There was only one problem – I had this thing called an ass.
You see, even when skinny, I had a butt. Call it a bubble butt, ghetto booty, badonkadonk, or whatever the hell else you will, the fact of the matter is, my ass was always, well… an asset.
That is, until it came time to try on clothes.
Low slung bikini bottoms? Look great from the front. Show incredible crack, or go massively into the crack from behind.
Short skirt? OK, just realize it’s much shorter in the back because it’s got to get itself around that protrusion called your ass.
Tight fittin’ jeans? Yeah, ok, sure. If you like the look of a smashed ass. (And hey Levi’s? About those “bold curve” jeans you recently came out with? You’re missing the boat on those things. Really. They’re still pretty straight up and down, and the largest size – labeled a 12, by the way – are comparable to what other jeans makers call an 8. Screw you!)
You’d think the problem would have gotten easier with a little meat on the rest of my bones.
You’d be wrong.
Once I reached double-digit sizes on boobs and hip, I realized my waist had apparently not gotten the message that it too was supposed to expand. Now I could choose clothing that was too loose in the waist, or too tight on the hips and boobs. Or I could go to the added expense of having things tailored.
A little more weight and the problem became even more pronounced. Designers apparently believe that women sprout mountainous breasts and mammoth bellies along with their curves. Things that were once just loose in the waist now began to fit the hip, but have these strange, almost maternity-like bags across my middle and the tops hung like I was wearing my big sister’s clothing.
And while we’re on this fun little rant, can I ask what the fuck is the problem with designers of larger sizes? Just because I’m not a size 2 does not mean I want to look like Omar the Tent Maker is my personal clothier. Really. I think you need to go back and watch The Muppets. Think about it. Did you ever see Miss Piggy rocking a muumuu? No? That’s because she’d karate chop you into non-existence for even suggesting that her fabulousness should be draped in acres of loose-fitting fabric.
All kidding aside (wait, strike that – I was not kidding about looking at Miss Piggy!)
Mine is not the first rant on the subject. Nor will it be the last. I don’t know too many women who can say, “Oh, I just walk into the store and grab a size __ and it fits.” Nearly every woman I know has similar bitches about the clothing industry – clothes don’t accommodate their breasts or their hips. Clothes don’t accommodate the fact that they have the body of a woman, not a pre-pubescent boy with breasts.
I realize that women come in all shapes and sizes and that makes creating and marketing a line of clothing difficult, but really, something’s gotta give here.
A very frustrated shopper