It’d been swimming around my mind for a while, but it crystallised on the Overground about six weeks ago, when I saw the lithe, size 10 model-esque girl wearing a vintage coat.
It was the label that bothered me as the thick, cosy, deliberately over-sized fabric doubled back on itself, exposing the size. Size 18. That was it, I had to admit it, unless something huge shifts in the fashion industry, I can’t dress sustainably.
I recycle; I don’t drink coffee so don’t have to worry about a keep-cup; I get the train instead of driving; and I try to eat seasonally. But every time I read an article about eschewing fast fashion and turning to vintage, buying from sustainable brands and spending more on ‘pieces’ that will last the test of time, I started to get a bit panicky and itchy.
Am I about to get ‘cancelled’? Because, sorry, but as a size 16/18 (ok, 18, it’s January, let’s be honest) being green when it comes to fashion just isn’t an option for me.
Instead, as I do every year, I will dive headfirst into the fire sales at the shops I feel confident and comfortable shopping in: New Look, Marks & Spencer, Primark and – latterly – Zara (props to the ever-flattering ‘The Dress’ and the addition of not just X, but XXL in most of their lines). These are the shops where I can grab a pair of jeans without necessarily trying them on. Where, if something doesn’t fit, there’s actually often another size I can go up to. Where I do my best to keep up with the ever-flowing trends.
There’s a number of reasons I find it difficult to vow that this year I will dress more sustainably, and they’re all to do with my size.
I feel that as a plus-size woman, it takes extra effort to appear presentable and well-dressed.
The shops where clothes fit me – and I’m well aware they’re probably vanity-sizing me – are where I am happiest. My weight fluctuates, which I think this is far truer for women over a certain weight. Obviously that means that for different moments in my life, I will need different sizes of clothes and an also-fluctuating wardrobe.
However, those cheaper stores on the high street are also places of comfort for me. It meant a lot, for instance, that I could pull on a pair of New Look jeans relatively soon after having my baby. Yes they were stretchy and, let’s be honest, wore out in the crotch after six months of constant use, but it was important. (Serious question – how do you keep a pair of jeans that don’t rub between the legs for years? I guess not having chub rub probably helps with that…)
Don’t even start me on people who pull out retro T-shirts, saying things like, ‘I had this when I was eight! Can you believe it?!’ No, I can’t. The most retro thing in my wardrobe is probably my long suffering comfy knickers. It’s also about keeping up with trends. I feel that as a plus-size woman, it takes extra effort to appear presentable and well-dressed. To feel accepted in the world. Sure, if you’re a size 8, you can pull off wearing timeless pieces like retro jeans or plain white shirts (side note: no ‘classic’ shirts are fitting over these boobs), always wearing black, or just ‘classic’ dresses that never age. Let’s face it, the right body and you can genuinely look good in a bin liner. Maybe it’s all in my head, but I feel like ‘timeless’ doesn’t apply to me. I feel like I always need to wear what’s vaguely ‘in fashion’ (to the extent that it’s on the high street) to keep up and look good. And that’s not sustainable, I know.
Another solution to the fast fashion problem is apparently to buy expensive stuff that keeps. Well, first off, the expensive stuff I’ve bought has never actually kept as well as it’s made out to. But secondly, a lot of designer brands don’t even make clothes in my size – the biggest size available is often size 14. An ‘L’ can be a 12.
Then there’s the charity shop and vintage buying, which that Overground Girl illustrated perfectly. I’ve never bought anything in my whole life from a charity or vintage shop that fits me. Firstly, I don’t see a lot of bigger clothes in those stores (perhaps just a cyclical perpetuation of some of the problems above?), but when you do, they’re often from years ago when people were smaller and they just don’t fit. And the ‘look’ with a lot of these things is to buy big, baggy, just-draped-no-effort clothes, three times your size. Hence, Overground Girl. And hence, no clothes for me.
I shop differently from my friends who aren’t plus-size. If I pick up something I love, I immediately think, ‘But will it fit me?’ I’ve taken many a ‘dream dress’ into the changing room, to realise it would look amazing, if only it wasn’t meant for someone with AA cup boobs, or, my exact size, but with absolutely stick-thin thighs. There’s just never certainty. I feel like ‘charity shop bargains’ and ‘amazing vintage finds’ are for people who are sized so they can pick up any piece of clothing and ‘make it work’. Size 12, looks great! Size 8, I’ll wear it as a cropped version! Size 18, I’ll tie it on the side! I need clothes that after extensive searching fit me in all the right places.
So, that’s my shameful green secret – if you see a skip-sized section in a landfill of jeans worn at the crotch until split, that’s on me. And I doubt that it’s going to change any time soon. So, with heavy heart, I’m off to the sales to find clothes that make me look good and feel great… at least great enough to balance out the guilt.
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