Every week I get about five fat lady catalogues from various companies who thankfully sell clothing for women with more than size zero bodies. I look through them, turn down page corners, sometimes I even buy clothes. Usually I call in my order because I like to talk with one of the eight hundred or so operators who handle catalogue sales. Sometimes I order online. It is impersonal, I often screw things up, but eventually I get what I need.
Today I got a new catalogue. The beautiful woman on the cover was probably a size six. I guess the photographer thinks that's hefty.
I looked inside. Lovely clothes for women with jobs or women who do not sit around in their pajamas writing most of the day. Then I get to about ten pages in.
Now...this catalogue is supposed to be for women of a certain size. Big. Not zeroes. Big ladies with hips and breasts and thighs. Not teeny tiny bodies. Big ladies.
The two pages contained dresses in animal prints. Tigers, zebras, leopards, cheetahs...the only thing missing was an elephant print. Of course, the models were slim. How could they put a zebra print on a woman with substantial body parts? It would look terrible. Scary. Nearly as awful as a woman wearing something in a cow print. Talk about setting oneself up for mockery.
Yes. I realize a woman should be able to wear whatever she wants to wear without fear of somebody pointing at her and laughing. Or wanting to jump her and rape her. Bikinis and halter tops and hip hugging short shorts should be fine. On some little twinkie perhaps, but not on someone with overly sufficient flesh.
Unless they want to hang out in Wal-mart and have their photos taken so the entire internet can laugh at them.
There are ways to dress and ways not to dress. This may be old fashioned of me, but oh, well, I'm too old to display myself. Back in the day, however, it wasn't the case. But I still went toward the more conservative side. I thought a little guessing was preferable to leaving nothing to be desired.
I am old.