Friday, 9 March 2012
I received a catalogue of the latter this morning.
There are bras like twin buckets and knickers like small baths; there are awful crimplene trousers and knee-length skirts; clumpy shoes (because we older folk might fall over if we walk in anything glamorous), things in awful bridesmaid colours (lemon, aqua, peach...you get the idea) and - joy of joys - lots of elasticated waists.
Now, I have a waist. Not, it must be admitted, the "tiny waist" of the romantic heroine (after four babies, I don't expect one), but I go in in the middle, and out again at the hips, and I call it a waist. I like to have belts and zips and buttons. I wear hipster jeans. I DO NOT NEED AN ELASTICATED WAIST. Neither, I suspect, do lots of my contemporaries.
To add insult to injury, the women modelling these revolting clothes all look suspiciously young (presumably because they couldn't get any older women to do the job. We've got more sense).
So please, please, please will clothing manufacturers start treating us like ordinary, normal women, with taste and a little vanity (still) and, above all, a SHAPE?