Lauren Bravo Writes:
Thank God for Mark Fast. By putting plus-sized models on the mainstream catwalk for the second season running, the much-acclaimed knitwear designer has set some ripples stirring on the sea of planet fashion. He’s proved that a) it wasn’t just a gimmick the first time round, and b) that women with a bit of meat on them can still rock high fashion looks. We can have our cake, eat our cake, and still wear a sweater dress without Anna Wintour jumping out of nowhere and locking us in a cupboard.
Hurrah! Oh, joyful day! Fashion has a new form, and it’s Crystal Renn-shaped! I could spend the rest of the article waxing lyrical on the plus-sized supermodel; the size of her thighs, the power of her curves, the voluptuous va-va-voom that her presence brings to a runwazy or magazine cover. But that would be boring, and a lapse into hypocrisy – after all, where magazines have failed women so enormously in the last 100 years (though they’ve tried to compensate with a million free canvas shopping bags) is with their tireless focus on perfection.
Instead we should discuss how silly it is that we use the term ‘plus-sized’ for models no bigger than a 12. Or how ‘curvy’ is a compliment when discussing Beyonce, but becomes a velvet-cloaked insult when used about Natalie Cassidy. The battle is far from over. Like fashion itself, it seems that plus-sized acceptance must follow the traditional path of catwalk-to-glossy-magazine-to-boutique-to-less-glossy-magazine-to-high-street-to-us. So while Mark Fast’s contribution should be applauded and appreciated, it is only the first domino in a long line to be toppled.
It seems high-end magazines still won’t use normal-sized models unless they are: 1) Famous. Designers, editors, musicians, business tycoons and the wives of world leaders are all, from time to time, allowed to grace the hallowed pages with a little extra flesh on their bones. Largely because it makes the magazine look highbrow. Or 2) A gimmick. “Look at us! We’re using fat birds! Aren’t we liberal and accepting?” the cover will scream, just to leave us in no doubt that this model is a Special Exception. But other than that, the world of the glossies remains a parallel universe, one in which Lara Stone is considered rather a hefter.
Meanwhile in the land of real women, dressing shapelier bodies is still a confusing business. I mean, we have to pay Gok Wan his dues. He’s given us all a lovely self-esteem boost, shown us how to love our wobbly bits and introduced the word ‘breasticles’ into the vernacular of a nation. But do we really want to spend the rest of our lives poured into pencil skirts and elastic waist-cincher belts, like a secretary from a 50s B-movie? Of course we don’t. We’d never be able to run up stairs. We’d be the Daleks of the style world (who are, now I come to think of it, rather pear-shaped themselves).
So we need to release Gok’s iron grip on our Spanx and reclaim our natural waistlines. And while we’re at it, a stern word needs to be had with the designers of high street plus-sized ranges. It seems grossly unfair that, while so much effort has been put into trendy maternity ranges in recent times, plus-sized wear remains on the whole a hateful mess of wafty kaftans and misshapen denim – being as women are only pregnant for nine months at a time, while some will be a size 18 their whole lives.
Plus-sized ranges, as far as I can deduce, centre around one key, and terribly misjudged, item. The t-shirt. I can only imagine that the conversations in the ivory towers must go something like this: “What do fuller figured women want to wear?” “Well, they probably want to look a bit sporty… like they might do some exercise and stop being so fuller figured.” “Yes” “And obviously they don’t want anything with any shape…” “Obviously” “So I think what they really want to wear, probably, is a great big t-shirt.” “Yes! That must be it! But hang on, isn’t that a bit boring? Plus-sized women are meant to be jolly, aren’t they?” “Hmm… ok, we’ll put some diamantés and a big jolly slogan down the front.” “Perfect.”
Other main fails in the sphere of plus-sized design include: lack of proper sleeves. This extends beyond fuller figure ranges to the vast majority of womankind, who for whatever reasons (bingo wings, chicken skin, those little pockets of flab that squeeze out under your armpits) don’t want to expose our upper arms, forcing us into little cardies that make us feel like Lorraine Kelly. Then there’s lack of shape. Wearing enormous, crushed velvet marquees does NOT make one look smaller by comparison. The only people it works on are Jenni Murray, Dawn French and Dame Judi Dench (see: ‘famous people’, above). And finally, there’s compensating for lack of shape with diamantes and mimsy floral motifs. This isn’t a primary school craft project. Give the girls a waist, for pete’s sake.
And all that hasn’t even given me time to start on the high street’s failure to accommodate us Average Amys in the 12-16 range (other than to quickly say: we have BREASTS, deal with it! Giving us acres of extra hip fabric is not going to change that; we can’t move them down there). So yes, while Mark Fast has taken a small step for woman, we still need a giant leap for womankind. But hey, at least we can eat while we’re waiting for it to happen. Cake, anybody?
