I have a lovely clothing shop in my hometown. I have been in there four or five times since it opened. The shop carries a delightful selection of very high-end clothing provided by top name designers. I am of an age and income level that I can afford good clothes. I buy mostly classics, sometimes something “fun” or trendy, and I spend a lot of money to keep relatively fashionable.
When I say “of a certain age,” I mean over fifty. Many of my friends are in my age bracket. Most of us are in reasonably good shape, and not severely over weight. I am five-foot-four, and weigh 130 pounds. I wear a size-eight dress, sometimes a size-ten top. This size and weight is not extraordinary at all.
As I peruse the clothing selections, I find that everything I’m looking at is ranging in size from a size zero to a size six. I found one size-eight dress in the entire shop and it wasn’t my color or style. When I lamented to the sales lady, she looked me over a bit and said, “Well, we do cater to the smaller-sized women.” Oh I see. I know quite a few fifteen-year-olds who would do great shopping here. Unfortunately, many of them don’t spend $259 on a blouse, $500 for a nice dress, or $425 on a lovely pair of wool slacks.
Catering to “smaller-sized women” means that the size-eights and tens are what? Plus-sized women? Give me a break. It’s a matter of economics here. If you want to sell your high priced stuff, you really should understand that women who can afford this stuff are going to be shaped like women, not fifteen-year-old slightly anorexic girls.