By ALISSA WARREN
I’m not excited about the plus-size fashion industry.
I’m not high-fiving my girlfriends. And I’m not buying their gear. Because it wouldn’t fit me. Just like the clothes worn by skinny models wouldn’t fit either.
It seems the fashion industry has decided that the best way to address the criticisms about the negative impact of using underweight models is to chuck a handful of overweight models at us and I find this absurd.
Why does it have to be about extremes? And are we meant to be grateful?
Here is my question: Where are the rest of us?
Where are the average sizes of women in Australia; the 12s, the 14s the 16s?
You know who I’m talking about. She’s the woman you probably saw in the mirror this morning. The one who may have a bit of a belly or love-handles that can be tucked into a pair of jeans. She isn’t morbidly obese but she doesn’t look like the prepubescent girls in the magazines either.
That woman is me. And most of the world’s female Western population. But oddly enough, there are very few models who look like us.
It seems there are only two options for women in fashion: plus size or minus size. It’s like going to Maccas and being forced to choose between the Big Mac and the sad salad that doesn’t even have a creamy dressing. There’s just no in-between.
A few days ago the fashion industry were in a flurry of self-congratulations over how wonderful they were for welcoming their first plus-sized designer, Eden Miller to New York Fashion Week: