I meandered to Target today in anticipation of finding a wide belt that did not cost an arm and a leg. I have discovered that the wide belt is the modern version of the girdle. It sucks in your waist and brings the eyes up from your stomach towards your face. I like that wide belts create the illusion of a waist for women who don't have many curves or none at all.
You ladies know how it is. You walk into a store with the intention of buying only one thing. Something bright and shiny catches your eyes (oooh, tomato red purse) and you wander away from your designated area in search of the glimmering, magical mirage of fashion (or kitchenware) that has caught your attention. Alas, when you arrive, you discover that it does not appear as magnificent from a distance as it does when you're close enough to touch it, feel it, and hold it up to your face as you scrutinize it for any imperfections.
I was a victim of the "Fashion Mirage". While in Target, several articles of clothing caught my eyes, and most of them were Isaak Mizrahi designs. Immediately, as I coasted among the racks of clothes, I discovered the bane of my shopping experience in all of the pants, the fatal phrase: Low Rise.
Low rise, why must you forever torture me? Why must you taunt me with your on-the-hanger, unsuspecting, friendly appearance that suddenly turns into a raging, snarling beast that my hips scream to run away from? Low rise has been my enemy since the moment Brittany Spears made these butt-crack peeping pants popular. Women who've never had a plumber's crack before suddenly gained one. I don't want to see a man half-mooning me; why would I want to see a woman doing the same? Why do I want to moon myself in the dressing room mirror?
Low rise pants...die! Just die!
Isaak Mizrahi, he's a fashion designer, so of course he tailors his clothes to achieve the optimal artsy appearance by placing them on a size 0 model. Then all of these clothes are reproduced with no interest in how the cut looks on the average woman.
I think, perhaps, Fashion Designers should realize that when their clothes look awful on the average woman...THEIR clothes look awful. Not the woman. We are beautiful creatures of all shapes and sizes.
I also tried on the dreaded Swing Jacket. I've known, from the moment this trend re-appeared, that the Swing Jacket would look horrendous on me. I proved myself right. Once the Swing Jacket donned my shoulders, I looked like I was wearing a box with two torpedos aimed to fire when ready. The only way I can possible conceive of this style working is if I had a breast reduction. Even at a "B" cup, I could not handle the jacket. It chewed me up, spit me out, and I fled. For smaller, skinnier women, it gives them curves where they're straight as a stick of hay. Skinny women have their bodily flaws, too. For average women, the Swing Jacket does not work. Then why is this style being predominantly carried in stores?
Ladies, I invite you to check out local stores near you. Let me know if you've found any that do not carry the Swing Jacket.
After trying on thirteen different tops and five pairs of pants, I walked out of Target with only two new shirts. They were Merona brand, not Isaak, which certainly flatter my body far more favorably.