I Won’t Turn Into a Label Whore, But There Was That One Time
When I was a kid I HAD TO have a pair of Jordache Jeans. I was 8, and of course I was still growing. My mom balked at spending $20 something bucks for a pair of jeans for a kid who would literally outgrow them five minutes later. But they had a horse embroidered on the back pocket. A horse! When I was 8 I loved horses. I had the Breyer horse toys, also expensive, and I used to play with them with my best friend Heather at recess every single day.
She finally relented and bought me a pair. And I was so proud of them. I wore them everywhere, and lovingly turned them inside out before putting them in the hamper like the label said I should so they could be washed inside out. Mom tore out the hems after I had a growth spurt, just to prolong my horsey back pocket pride. Eventually I grew too tall and too wide for them, and they went into the Goodwill bin.
And that was really the only time I remember being so brand specific, with the exception of my Reebok fetish in 8th grade. Now I rebel against designer labels. I do wear Calvin Klein sometimes. But it’s usually purchased on the TJ Maxx clearance rack and bought because it flatters me, not because it's Calvin Klein. I don’t wear logos. When my nieces and nephews were younger I resisted buying them any clothing with logos on them, because I don’t want to spend money to make them walking billboards for Nike or Old Navy, or whatever. I inwardly roll my eyes when I hear women talk about their Coach handbag—I bought my last purse on Amazon and I’ll carry that one and only purse until things start to fall out of it. I am not into labels, at all.
But I’ve had a fascination with the story behind Diane Von Furstenburg and her iconic wrap dress. In the 1970s she made a wrap dress that was supposed to look great on every body type. She hit the scene and women of all shapes and sizes flocked to her easy wear dress that could be worn anywhere… to work, to church, on a date. And you just wrap it around you, tie it, and you’re out. You don’t even need to have your husband zip you into it! That’s how easy this dress is to wear. The thing I found interesting about this dress is that it is thought to have contributed to the women’s sexual revolution of the 1970s. Was sexual revolution really as easy as a dress you can simply untie from the front and let it fall from your body? Were women really selecting clothing that was easy to get out of? It certainly is more sexy to untie a dress and let it fall behind you, I suppose, rather than have your potential partner unzip you out of your dress.
Sexual revolution aside, the concept that a dress that anyone can look good in is certainly interesting, isn’t it? I googled it, and decided that there is no way that I could ever wear them. Won’t wrap dresses bulge open in the front and make my boobs spill out? I looked at the price of them. And while they aren’t insanely expensive, I decided the price was too rich for my blood. Remember, I’m the one who routinely buys my clothes at consignment shops, and touts the phrase “used cashmere” in conversation.
Last night I went into TJ Maxx for some retail therapy. It’s been so rainy and blah here in RI, that I wanted a pick me up. I sifted my way through the clearance racks. I rarely venture further than the clearance rack. Then I thought “You know, I have to go to Chicago for work in 2 weeks…” I really struggle with what to wear to client visits, when I work from home and live in jeans, sweaters and hoodies. (No matter how cool a client is, I will NEVER wear jeans in front of a client.) I hit the dress rack and thought that maybe I’ll see if I can find a season appropriate dress for my upcoming trip. (April, the curse of fashion. Too warm for winter, too cold for summer clothes. What to wear and still look appropriate?)
And I found a Diane Von Furstenburg wrap dress on sale. On sale! I never did try one on, and thought I’d give it a go. There is no way in hell that this thing really does “look good on everyone.” I slipped it on and pulled one end of the tie through the strategically placed hole on the waist. Pulled the belt around and tied it in the front, just slightly left of center. I shimmied my shoulders, the girls stayed put behind the v-neck, the bow stayed tight at my waist. I examined my Kruzel child bearing hips (as my sisters and I call them) and my Soviet gymnast thighs in the 3 way mirror. I looked slender. Oh, but surely it’ll cling to my butt, and make that look enormous. Nope, actually the rear view is the best its looked in a dress in a long time. (Thanks to all the time I spent doing Beach Body workouts.)
I turned the price tag over in my hands. Its more than I want to spend on a dress. Especially since I don’t work in an office. I’ve been known to wear dresses while working at home anyway, just to feel like I am working in an office. If Todd were there in the fitting room with me he’d say “It looks great. You like the way you look in it. Just buy the damn thing.”
And I did.
BJ Knapp is the author of Beside the Music, available for purchase here. Please sign up for the Backstage with BJ Knapp mailing list to get updates on events, signings, dog pictures and so much more.
added on 04.10.17