Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Size 2 And Slutty Jeans. Really?

I went shopping for clothes yesterday. I haven't done this in 2 1/2 years. I know. And I had exactly 1 1/2 hours to do it, at one store with John, my 3 1/2 year old son who is going through a, shall we say, surly stage. To say I ran through the store and totally trashed the dressing room would be an understatement.  But I did it and I was successful. While I was running through the Misses Department (what exactly is that anyway?) I was reminded of Blair's post over at Heir to Blair about beauty and size and her hopes for her son. I read it, and while I didn't dismiss it -- I have two daughters and routinely worry about body image -- I guess not only did I think I was above it by now, but I thought it would not effect my children for years.

First, I had to grab two sizes of every shirt I wanted to try on. Mediums and larges. I had no idea what size I was, as the last time I bought clothes I listlessly picked out t-shirts at Target and they are of varying sizes, dependent upon what Target had available. Nice, no? So I loaded the cart (I was at Kohl's) with two of every shirt I kind of liked, then moved on to jeans and cords. Yeah. Really, people? Really? Who is stocking these shelves? Because I know, I know that the average woman is a size 12. Which puts me one whole size below average. Which yes, makes me do a happy dance (I've been above average for 3 years. Happy dance with me). And yet all I find are size 2's, 4's and 6's. Now. That being said. I could believe that I'm finding these itty bitty sizes due to the average sizes being sold because they are the most popular. Then why are they not being restocked? And why do those damn mannequins not look like me? I just tried that outfit on, and let me assure you, a 5'2 155 lb woman cannot and should not wear a sweater dress. But those you have in abundance in size 10. Thankyouverymuch.

So I hauled my multiple shirts into the dressing room and my two pairs of size 10 pants. Two pairs. TWO. If I were a size 8 again I would have been in clothing heaven and had a virtual plethora of jeans and cords to choose from. But this post baby body (yeah, the baby is 3. Get over it.) does not have size 8 in it's sight. Still, it was painful to know that my choices were so horribly limited because I am average.

Then I went on to the girls section and was further annoyed and outraged. First, can we please just make a pair of size 8 girls jeans that are not slutty? My daughter is seven, fashion designers. Seven! She is not a street walker on Hollywood Ave yelling at Julia Roberts in her blond wig to "Work it . . . work it!" She is seven. She likes frogs and ballet, cats and ponies. She likes chocolate ice cream and snuggling with her mommy. She does not know what 'juicy' is, or why she'd want a skull on her thigh. In rhinestones. She does not want thigh high boots. She does not want a skin tight t-shirt with the words 'hottie' or 'heartbreaker' or 'you can't touch this' on it. Neither does she want (or need) a bra and matching panties! She is seven. Seveeeennnn you immoral, ignorant, childless designers. Yes, childless. Because I refuse to believe that a parent would design these clothes. However, parents put their children in them, so . . . whatever. What was I saying? Ah, yes. Jeans. Candies. Hannah Montana aka Miley Cyrus (gahg) and I swear, Lady Gaga just using an alias. Then finally, a ray of hope. Levi's!! And they? Were $21.99. A full $5 more than the slutty jeans, even though they had about a yard more fabric. But they're made better. And won't cause me to shudder every time I see them. So I snatched them up.

I had Violet try on said jeans later that night. They fit her nicely around her waist. They were six inches too long in length. We are not a tall people, my family. But we are not six inches below average. What seven year old wears a size 8 pants and has the legs of a 12 year old?  Now not only is the child forced to wear inappropriate messages on her body, but her body is expected to fit an impossible image. I've seen the second grade girls in Violet's school. These jeans would not fit a single one of them.  So when each of these girls went shopping for jeans, they were met with the obstacle of not being tall enough for the jeans if they fit around the waist. At seven and eight years old they are being subjected to this. So now I know how young this problem of body image starts. And obviously we can thank the clothing designers, not Hollywood, as I originally thought.

So my goal tonight is to reinforce how intelligent, funny, bright, quick, graceful, athletic and coordinated my children are. And ask my mom to shorten some jeans.