This week I put in what will hopefully be my last ever order to a store that specifically caters to plus size women.
Don’t get me wrong, I love this store. I’m also grateful to them for recognizing that young women who are overweight don’t want to wear voluminous sweaters with kitten appliques, multicolored stretch pants, or muumuus. Torrid, an off-shoot of Hot Topic (popular with the eyeliner and heavy metal crowd), first caught my attention as I was strolling through the Mall of America.
That particular day, I had no specific item in mind, but as I was passing through the crowded walkways, I spotted a gigantic pink sign and store windows hung with posters of girls whose bodies looked like mine. Jackpot! A sense of epiphany, heaven, euphoria, and all that fabulousness hit me. I had finally found a clothing store to call home.
Previously, shopping was fun, but frustrating. It was an epic battle through regular stores, poring meticulously over rack after rack, including buckets of tears in the dressing rooms, to find just one thing that both fit me and I actually liked. Racks filled with sizes medium and small, but mysteriously devoid of that magic XL would frustrate me to the point of slamming hangers while moving to the next item. When I did find that one item of clothing (or if it was an awesome day, TWO items! Wow!), I’d bring it to the check-out line like it was a trophy studded with precious gemstones. Price was no object, I had clothing that fit me!
Few stores take larger people into account, though we’re becoming more and more of the population. As I’ve gained more weight, my choices have dwindled considerably. Now I pretty much only shop at Torrid, Old Navy, Target, and occassionally Kohls and JcPenney.
While it’s comforting to know where I can purchase clothes, I want to expand my horizons a little: I want to shop at Hollister.
What? you may ask. Buy overpriced clothing marketed towards anorexic teenagers, whose sizes seem to give everyone who wears them a sense of panic because they run so small? Yup, them. I want to walk past those twiggy sales girls, pick up a pair of jeans, take them to the dressing room, try them on, parade about, and then put them back on the rack and walk out. I want to know that I could wear them if I wanted to. But I’ll be saving my denim cash for these: http://www.fidelitydenim.com/