A Guide to Quality, Taste and Style (5 page)

Consider the
ne plus ultra
of plus-size quality, taste, and style, the quintessential diva: the prima donna. We’d place Leontyne Price—all size 24 of her—on a pedestal next to Audrey Hepburn any day. La Price knows what clothing proportions look good with her own proportions,
what colors work with her skin tones, and she is aware of the critical importance of fit. In addition, she is aware of the extraordinary benefits of good posture. Audrey Hepburn, physically quite a different type from la Price, did exactly the same thing for her size. Think of all those iconic Audrey images: Her clothing is graphic and has a minimum of fussy detail, the hair swept back or the short, short bangs. Neither woman tried to dress as someone she was not, and both looked fabulous. Size had nothing to do with it.

Fit is the most neglected aspect of how we dress; that is, most people wear clothes that are either too big or too small or a combination of both. Why? In the case of clothes that are too big, we suspect that it’s an issue of comfort. One of our tenets is: If your goal when dressing is to feel as though you never got out of bed, then don’t.

Get out of bed, that is. Pants that drag on the floor, tops that come down to your knees, a coat that hits your ankle, these are items that are entirely too big. Dissenters tell us that they “like the drape” that fuller clothes provide. Really? A top that looks like a pup tent is hardly what we call a flattering drape. Instead, it’s sloppy. If you’re a
member of the Oversize Club (fashion’s version of “The OC”), experiment with some clothespins. Pinch the fabric in strategic places in order to play with the fit of the garment. You’ll notice that you look neater and trimmer, and you’ll achieve a more anthropomorphic shape.
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And there are no fewer falsehoods with apparel that is too small. A stretched, puckered sausage skin is as far from flattering as the dirigible housedress. In fact, it can be visually painful to see a woman bursting from her clothes.

And surely it must be physically painful for the wearer. Let us recount the story of a young college girl who took this problem to the extreme. Everything she wore, including her bra and her shoes, was several sizes too small. “Valerie” would literally limp around campus, and a flight of stairs made her breathless, because she wasn’t able to fully use her lungs. A group of classmates performed an intervention. Tearfully, Valerie stated that her confining, suffocating wardrobe made her look smaller and thinner. Preposterous! We never learned the full outcome of the intervention, other than that Valerie found a psychotherapist. Hopefully, she was helped.

Size is just a construct. However, we are conditioned to think, “Ah, I’m a size 6, so I’m fabulous!” The size label in women’s clothes (fortunately, it hasn’t struck men . . . yet) is a retail-driven plot to obfuscate the expanding
American girth and to reinforce myths associated with sizes. The outcome is a considerable conundrum: “What size am I?”

Vanity sizing is a contrivance of the retail world—not the design industry. The thinking goes like this: Imagine the potential consequence of the consumer who is confronted with the “truth” about her size; that is, she’s not the size 10 she thought she was, but she’s actually a size 18. The retail world fears that this consumer will flee from the store empty-handed. Of course, once one realizes how variable these numbers are—and this may take some practice—it will allow you to focus on fit, not size.

Retailers seem to be confident that there are advantages to this ploy, but I don’t see any advantages to the consumer. We’d venture a guess that retailers actually lose business because customers don’t always have the time to try on the same skirt in four different sizes, so they end up returning what doesn’t fit.

Why, then, are there no standardized sizes? In fact, there are (and we teach them at Parsons), but it’s very misleading to assert that. Why? Because that statement implies to the consumer that all size 8s, for example, are the same—they’re not. Why? Two factors are involved. First, the design of the garment determines the placement of the waist, the sleeve length, the length of the skirt, the diameter of the jacket, etc. These factors are why some clothes are slim-fitted while others are boxy or blouson. The second factor is related to price. For example, why is a Donna Karan Collection basic black dress (about
7,500) in a size 8 an entirely different fit than a DKNY basic black dress (about
350) in the same size? Because sizing has changed at the mid-to-lower end of the price scale and has remained the same for 40 years at the higher end. High-end designer-label clothes have never changed their sizing. Your mother’s Oscar de la Renta cocktail dress is the same size 6 today as it was when she bought it twenty-five years ago. (And it’s interesting to note that European sizes—high-end to low-end—haven’t changed, either, but that’s another story.)

So, the DKNY size 8 is really an old-world size 10/12. Take three size 8 dress forms, manufactured in 1984, 1994, and 2004. The difference in the waist measurement alone is a full two inches: 1984—25.5, 1994—26.25, 2004—27.5. Interesting, yes? But rather confusing in the dressing room, no? And all of this is done because retailers fear women won’t buy if confronted with a number they don’t like.

Perhaps the average shopper might be daunted, but the truly stylish person regards that provocative number on
the tag with philosophical detachment. One idea that may help to foster that sense of detachment is the following: Buying off the rack is simply flawed. Sadly, most of us are denied the pleasure of made-to-order garments and must rely on what is available to us in stores, or “on the rack.” Even the most perfect physiques, though, cannot always find exactly what they need. Think about it: Our bodies are all so different, yet we expect to fit neatly into one size category. Isn’t that rather silly?

If you look great in something, who cares what size it is? In fact, that question could almost become a Zen koan: If the size 8 fits, but makes me look bigger, while the size 10 flows gracefully over my figure, actually making me
appear smaller, which size should actually be considered the “larger” size? Finally, if that higher number is truly so loathsome to you, cut the tag out with manicure scissors as soon as you get home.

So, how do you know what size to shop for? Try it on! Unless you’re shopping a brand that you wear often and know well, never make any assumptions about the fit. Virtually all mass-market companies (inexpensive to bridge) have bought into the vanity-sizing scheme, because their customer base is broad, widespread, and represents most of America. What to do? While shopping, grab the size you think will fit, as well as one size up and down. You may decide that you prefer the slightly longer length of the size up or the more tailored fit of the size down. You won’t know unless you try.

Once you conquer the fit conundrum, are you foible free? We’re afraid not. We’re tempted to sing the praises of the golden mean, the Rosetta stone of form and proportion in the Western World, but its use can be complicated, especially when we’re considering a multitude of moving parts. Your body has form and proportion, each of your body parts has form and proportion, and each article of your attire has form and proportion. They must all be examined and assessed together!

In the absence of a set of customized paper dolls (isn’t that a great idea?), let’s conjure which silhouettes and proportions you should embrace and which you should avoid. And we make an assumption about a shared goal of
most readers; that is, to find proportions and silhouettes that together make your body look as long and lean as possible under the circumstances.

So, find yourself among the body types on the following pages. More than one category will be true for most people, so mix and match where appropriate. Perhaps you are short-waisted and busty, or petite and short-waisted. Fear not! Although we all have parts of us that we don’t like, there is absolutely no reason that thick calves or a concave chest should stand between you and your style goals. All can be managed.