Designer Irritation

"Hey Elizabeth, can you put this up on that shelf for me?" My four-foot-something coworker holds a Costco-size tub of Folgers coffee.

"Sure," I tell her, "as long as you don't look at my rolls when I reach up to put it on that shelf." She laughs and tells me that she'd be willing to bet that hers are worse than mine. Maybe, but as I'm reaching up to put the Folgers away, I'm not thinking about the smallish tire that rests, ever so gently, above the waist of my size 12 jeans. No; I'm thinking about the fact that you can't buy those '80s style high-waisted jeans that everyone crucified a size eight Jessica Simpson for wearing. Ah, high-waisted jeans and oversize graphic T-shirts with shoulder pads. Minus the shoulder pads and those damnable stirrup pants, I miss those days. These days it's skinny this and tight that. And it's sad, but I can't remember the last time I wasn't on a diet.

And I don't get it. In an age where 67 percent of American adults 20 and over are considered to be overweight or obese, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and where 34 percent are considered definitively to be "obese," why do fashion designers continue to bring us styles that are the 2000s equivalent of the 1980s oh-so-popular Spandex? It's just wrong.

Now, I don't want anyone to misunderstand where I'm going with this. I believe there ought to be more fashions for full-figured women to choose from than floral mumus. What I am requesting, though, is that we stop this skinny and very-low-rise jean madness because, the truth is, not everyone wants to or can pull it off--myself included. Sure, they sell skinny jeans in my size, which, on a good day is a 12, and on a bad day a 14 or 16, depending where it is I'm shopping, but those jeans aren't really made for women who are my size. They're made for women who haven't given birth, for prepubescent girls, and for women who have no ass.

And another thing. Why don't we all just get real and accept the fact that most people don't fit into the size two, four or six category. Most of us are eights, 10s, 12s, 14s and 16s, or bigger. It's true. Even I used to wear a size 22.

And while it might be fun to watch Kate Moss try to keep from passing out on a runway, or to read what she eats in a day, which, according to one Web site, is probiotic yogurt, toast and fruit for breakfast, grilled chicken and vegetables for lunch and grilled fish and vegetables for dinner (WTF?), and while it might also be fun to see how she does with that diet on a four-day-a-week gym routine, which she also claims to do, no one is laughing that because of a minority of people like Kate, the rest of us are relegated to only a few stores at the mall and to a few racks in upscale stores (Hell, I can't even walk into Bebe without feeling ashamed of my size, and I'm a size 12, for God's sake. Marilyn Monroe was a size 16!), and to magazines which do not reflect the majority of Americans.

I guess all I'm asking is for designers to cut some of us a little slack, and for other smaller-than-the-rest-of-us sizes to do the same. We women, after all, are our worst enemies. I'd like to see more fuller figure models walking the runways and in more magazines. And please, stop shoving the obvious majority of us into tiny things that we shouldn't be wearing--like skinny jeans and tight-fitting T-shirts. 'Cause, while I have lost 6.4 pounds since I started back on Weight Watchers a couple of weeks ago, I've still got that tiny tire of flab hanging above the waistline of my low-rise jeans.

P.S. I would also like a larger selection of Halloween costumes. I am so sick and tired, every October, of having so little to choose from at Party City. It's either the Evil Queen costume from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves or the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. Why punish what is so obviously the majority of Americans? 'Cause trust me, I'm pretty sure some of us really want to wear that gothic fairy outfit--albeit in a larger size. Either that, or we just want to strangle that skinny, gothic fairy. And then we can feed her to Kate Moss--'cause I'm pretty sure she's hungry; she's just afraid to show it. Be not afraid, Kate! Be not afraid!