Melbourne, shopping and style admiration
I just got back from Melbourne. I’ve never been before and was super excited to go – mainly for the shopping and eating, but also, just for the experience.
I knew the shopping would probably be a bit better than it would be here – more variety of stores and much more space in the CBD means the odds are in favour of more consumerism, but I am still a little embarrassed at how much I spent. I get the guilts whenever I spend my own money and indulge in rampant consumerism.
There were specific plus sized stores I wanted to check out and I managed to hit them up. The first was on Bridge Road (a huge road in Richmond, mostly dedicated to outlets of all kinds) and it was Dream Diva.
I’d seen clothing I’d liked on the Dream Diva website before, but the high postage for an Australian-based store put me right off from buying online. When an overseas company (granted, a much larger one) can offer customers free postage on their items and a local company cannot, I know which company is getting my money. However, being at the store in person meant I didn’t have to pay postage, so I happily browsed. And bought.
The second store was Towanda. Towanda is basically plus sized designer central. A great deal of the clothing is sort of … well, shapeless sack dresses that are exorbitantly priced come to mind, but they also stock a range of Embody denim jeans and Not Your Daughter’s Jeans. I’ve wanted to try on a pair of Embody jeans for AGES now – I have great difficulty buying jeans because of the difference in my hips, thighs and stomach, and I was not willing to buy (especially at those prices) without trying on first. Unfortunately, the sales assistant at Towanda told me that they were changing stockists, so there was very little stock for me to try on. Disappointing.
Both sales assistants at Dream Diva and Towanda were amazingly dressed. Intimidatingly so. I wanted to tell them both I was in awe of their style, their whole look. But, I balked. I balked because I know how it feels when people look at you. Especially when you’re a fat woman – you don’t know if people are staring because they think your style is awesome and are working up the courage to tell you, or if they’re staring because they think you look horrible and are judging you. And why should you care anyway? What gives any stranger the right to comment on your clothing?
I discussed this recently on my Sartorialist post. While I wanted to be focused on the fashion and not the body, sometimes, they’re so closely linked that there’s no difference between the two.
Am I over thinking this? Personally, it makes me both flattered and uncomfortable to receive comments on my clothing, but mostly because I’ve never been very good at taking compliments. But I recognise that an unsolicited comment (even a complimentary one) from a stranger might not be welcome in any circumstance. Women have become so used to people commenting on their bodies and their clothing that it’s almost expected, but it doesn’t mean it is ok. Ultimately, I decided not to say anything.
