If I could spend my entire life in frothy party dresses, I would.
That’s why I both love and hate Betsey Johnson. Love, because she made incredibly gorgeous, glamorous, femme-tastic clothing. Hate, because she made it only up to a size 12. And at ridiculously expensive prices.
When I first visited a Betsey Johnson store, on a trip to New York last year, I was struck by how I felt simultaneously at home and left out. I had stepped into a magical pink world full of floral print and tulle–a world that, unlike most stores, reflected my style. A world of color and pattern and unabashed girliness. But at the same time, it was a world that excluded me.
I’m used to stores that carry little or nothing in my size, but it sucks more than usual when everything is so awesome.
When I found out that they were going out of business, part of me thought, “Serves you right!” And part of me was just sad to see a source of so much fabulousness disappear.
The world needs more fabulousness, not less.
I want to see inclusive, accessible fabulousness.
I know that the majority of thin women couldn’t have afforded Betsey Johnson dresses either, but at least they have more options for similar but cheaper clothing. Every time I walk into my local Buffalo Exchange, for example, the racks are full of cute, frilly, funky dresses in straight sizes, while their plus-size selection is limited to a few basics.
Plus-size designers, take note. Solid-colored cotton dresses are nice, but I’d love to see some of this:
source: first two taken by me, all others from Betsey Johnson’s Facebook page