A Screed Against Off The Rack Clothing

I recently came to a very liberating conclusion regarding the clothing I like to wear, and it is this: I hate pants. I would go so far as to say I loathe them. 

This acceptance is a long time coming. My mom struggled to get me to wear jeans for years. I spent most of middle school and high school wearing stretchy sport shorts. If I was wearing anything made of denim, it was a jean jacket, and I loved my Jeggings like no one’s business for giving the illusion of denim without actually being it. I can’t really explain why I was so opposed to it for so long — denim always felt cold and rough when I wore it, and I didn’t like the way it made me sweat. It took me until college to finally accept jeans as a part of life.

Only, I haven’t. Because despite my best efforts, nearly every pair of jeans, pegged trousers, and even shorts I have bought for myself do not fit me well. I repeat, this is not for lack of trying. Without failure, I inevitably end up with the thighs wearing thin, or my legs and hips feeling pinched, or the waist fitting perfectly but the legs being too short. Although I’m usually first to blame myself for incompetence, this is a wider problem than me struggling at the mall. There’s no real way to get a regulated sizing gauge, so all companies generally rely on their own in-house size guide. Although some may be more reliable than others, unless you’re getting your clothes made custom to your body’s proportions, you’re relying solely on what the garment or size chart says the size is. This issue is why we may be a size M in one brand’s clothing but a size XL in another.

There are many reasons why clothes just don’t seem to fit like they should. Much of it is that it’s hard to get clothes that are tailored specifically to you. Custom clothing is expensive and requires the time and labor of professional tailors and seamstresses. Even if you’re a skilled seamstress in your own right, it still takes time, effort, and desire to learn about all the little details that go into a perfectly-fitting piece of clothing. Additionally, fast fashion brands exploit people to mass produce clothes to turn around and sell on the cheap. For these brands, there is no money in taking the time to tailor clothes that will truly fit people – it’s just about turning over as much profit for as little cost as possible.

Another part of it is simply the diversity and complexity of every body. Even a piece of clothing that fits you perfectly one day will not necessarily fit you perfectly in one year or five year’s time. Our bodies fluctuate constantly, even within the same month, so it is not realistic to expect that all clothes will fit us at all times of our lives. I think that’s why the baggy T-shirt and sweatpants combination has become a staple of nearly every wardrobe; it’s nice to sink into something that is oversized, comfortable, and does not require the perfection that getting dressed sometimes demands. 

However, I think that more should be done to make clothing fit better. Because of the aforementioned worker exploitation, clothes are churned out at a disgusting rate of speed and, because they go “out of style” or no one buys them off the rack because of any number of reasons, these garments become textile waste and go to pollute the water supply and the land. I would argue that one of the reasons that many on-the-rack clothes go to waste is because so many of them are ill-fitting.

Having clothes that fit well is an age-old trope that tends to indicate wealth in most common symbolic parlance. How often on television shows do we see characters who are impoverished, slobbish, or otherwise “lower class” given oversized, ill-fitting clothes, while those who are wealthy or have “fashion sense” (that is, access to money) are portrayed with form fitting outfits with designer labels that simply scream “I come from money!” Of course, this is reductive, and I am thinking of most popular movies from the 1990s that partake of this visual shorthand for denoting class, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to think that many people assume that the average person wearing clothes that don’t fit is probably doing so out of financial necessity. (I will note too that baggy clothes are nevertheless still popular and indeed worn commonly by those with wealth and positions of power, especially entertainers; think Billie Eilish or many rap and hip-hop stars. Bringing baggy clothes to the mainstream is an awesome way to talk back to gendered body expectations or to make an assumed signifier of poverty into one of wealth and status, but it also must be considered how someone famous doing something is not always perceived the same way as the average Joe doing the same.)

But off-the-rack clothing is just not doing what it should in terms of making clothing accessible to all. Although I firmly believe that everyone should be doing whatever they can to make, mend, alter, or otherwise DIY their own clothes, off-the-rack is often convenient or sometimes the only option for people to clothe themselves — and that could be off-the-rack at, say, Macy’s, or off-the-rack at your local thrift shop. Maybe the bust is too tight in one size, but the next size up is too baggy in the shoulders. Perhaps the shoes you need for work only come in whole sizes, and you need a half size for one foot and a quarter size for another. People have different needs and fashion tastes, and our-sizes-fit-all just does not serve that purpose. 

So what should we do? I think, in an ideal world, everyone should be given the opportunity to learn how to modify and mend clothing to their own proportions. I’m someone who works in a library, and I think more libraries with the means to do so should find ways to integrate programming where people can learn how to make and mend their own clothes. Making these kinds of classes free for the community at times that work for more than just one age group is crucial to expanding these important skills. In the absence of DIY lessons at a well-funded library, taking the time to understand how our clothes are made and where they come from is an equally important step. Finding brands that generally fit our bodies, or offer clothing in a large range of sizes that suit more than a straight body type are also worthwhile investments. 

Rejecting fast fashion wherever possible and encouraging smaller brands that are taking the time to be body inclusive — and that includes offering sizes from XS to 5XL, petite sizes, plus sizes, and more — can also be a better path for those who can afford to do so. Investing in better quality clothes with better fit allows for us to put our money where our mouths are and do our bit to help turn away from the terrible cycle of fast fashion. And regardless of if you live in bodycon clothes or you spend most of your days in the largest, coziest sweatshirt you own, finding better and more sustainable paths forwards towards clothes that fit not just our bodies, but our tastes, will over time lead to a more ethical wardrobe and, with persistence and advocacy, a more sustainable garment industry as well.

Written by, Evelyn O’Brien