Read Me Before You Buy
When they moved me to the window, I knew I was going to be alright. I would get to be the center and main attraction for all the young, stylish people who visit my home in search of a perfectly curated outfit. They want to stand out and be what no one has ever seen, but when I tell you where we are, you’ll realize this fashion goal is nearly impossible.
I’ve been at the window before. Last winter I was chosen to be there along with others very similar to me, just in different colors, like green, burgundy, and even gray. These are what the people above us consider appropriate winter shades. I am none of these colors; I am stark white, nearly see through. When people pass me by in the windows the comments I hear most often are, “Oh, I need another basic like that.” ‘“But I can’t pee if I wear that.” Or, “What should I wear this with?”
I’m used to the customers wanting me and acting on their decision. I rarely make it to the dressing rooms, and the people who buy me usually have no vision in sight for me. I’ll think, “So, what are you going to do with me?” The fate I fear the most is a life spent in a closet untouched, neglected, the itchy tags never ripped from my skin.
On this particular day I left the window to return to a teenage girl’s home, who I would later discover had replicas of me everywhere. Despite her large walk in closet, I couldn’t help but notice all around me other white bodysuits tucked in random corners of the room. When we arrived at her home, she featured me in a haul that she filmed more than once. One for her private story, then one for her group chat of close friends. This was customary, this was routine, but I couldn’t not hope that maybe it would be different this time.
It was May now, and I was hoping to get my debut of the outside world soon enough. Surely the girl would have a party or function or simply a hangout with friends that I was suitable for?
Well, I was immensely wrong.
I thought my Zara label would give me a leg up against the other competitors in her closet; Princess Polly bodycons, Aritzia sweat sets, Amazon leggings, to name a few. But we actually were all the same. Surpassed, ignored, invisible.
What intrigued my fellow clothes and I the most is that the girl actually used a miniscule fraction of all the pieces she owns. It’s oversized t-shirts, flowy shorts, and workout sets that have seized the throne. We all really couldn’t blame her, we weren’t exactly as functional or nearly as comfortable as the clothes she actually reached for every day.
It stung the first time she did reach for me, and she laid me down on a blank, flat surface to sell me on Poshmark. This has happened to the winter versions of me I told you about in the windows. I thought since my color was flexible and fit for every season I’d be safe.
Selling me took a while, and when she finally found a bidder my price had decreased by $7 less than when she had originally bought me months ago. Combined with a never worn piece and a loss in money for even buying me in the first place, my purchase was pointless. Thoughtless. The clothes around me and I knew this was coming and it happens every time.
It is evident that individuality matters. We are in need of armor—unique and perfect clothes that make us look effortless—to ensure others perceive us the way we want them to. But at the end, when we don’t think before we buy or have a plan before we decide the item is ours, we lose a lot more money than we realize. Overfilled closets have a tendency to overcrowd not only the space but our own minds. When we don’t really try on the clothes we are in pursuit of, we’re risking an empty purchase. And when we mindlessly buy things from Zara we know won’t really work, are we really showing our true selves at all?
So, read me before you buy. Maybe you can thank me down the road when you have more space for the new, money saved for an important item you’ve always wanted, or simply, a consumer’s peace of mind.
Strike Out,
Written by: Madison Meadows
Edited by: Jane Dodge
Graphic by: Abby Randolph
