Ah, thanks, hon. It was just such an amazing thing to wear clothes from the Fat Girl Fleamarket throughout my trip to Texas. When I had on the black and white floral dress you had picked out for me, my 84 year-old home economist aunt was admiring the construction of the straps, and later I gave it to my sister who admired it a lot, too. And then Aunt Corinne said, "I was talking about your dress, and then your sister told me its history."
Because I'd been talking, every time I got a compliment on my clothes, about how I walked into the Fat Girl Fleamarket in New York City and got handed a bag of sundresses picked out for me, each of which were perfect. It sounded like magic, and also like I was a part of powerful, mysterious networks that fat women everywhere might want to tap into, which, of course, is kind of true. And then I got my aunt to tell me the story again about how she was so insulted when she went into a department store in the seventies and could find no underwear in her size, that she wrote them a letter with statistics about the size of the senior market and was outraged when all they sent her back was a scarf. "They were just trying to placate me," she says, in her very durable Texas accent.
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Date: 2006-07-20 12:47 pm (UTC)Because I'd been talking, every time I got a compliment on my clothes, about how I walked into the Fat Girl Fleamarket in New York City and got handed a bag of sundresses picked out for me, each of which were perfect. It sounded like magic, and also like I was a part of powerful, mysterious networks that fat women everywhere might want to tap into, which, of course, is kind of true. And then I got my aunt to tell me the story again about how she was so insulted when she went into a department store in the seventies and could find no underwear in her size, that she wrote them a letter with statistics about the size of the senior market and was outraged when all they sent her back was a scarf. "They were just trying to placate me," she says, in her very durable Texas accent.