Post Away....

Addendum:

Annoymous #1 and #2, I have to admit you're correct. Nothing like being reminded that heated opinions always attract more attention. Thanks for also reminding me that this sort of thing isn't always bad!

Sorry to be a buzz kill when I posted this earlier. 70 posts into my blog, and you'd think I'd learn it by now right? Readers, please bear with me while I live and learn! Please be sure to knock me upside the head if I ever try committing blog suicide again!


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Silly me, I somehow wasn't expecting the sheer number of comments that Nancy's letter generated throughout my blog. I'm definitely glad that everyone's being so responsive. While I'm certainly not surprised at how heated people got, I want to state flat out that I don't always agree with everyone's comments. So I'll stop posting replies just to clarify that. Also, I realize that I am (and so is everyone else!) a hypocrite, as personal reflections aren't always flattering or "fair," and have to be read in context.

I publish everyone's comments and approve them only to avoid 'bots spamming my site. Keep posting, but try to be nice, ok?

How I Got Inside the Tents, or How I Hope I Won't Get Denied Next Time Around Because I Wrote This

People are probably wondering how in the world I got past the security checkpoints at Bryant Park last week. While I'd love to say that it was because of the slew of invitations, my killer wardrobe, or my ability to sneak through several layers of security every day, I actually got in the old-fashioned way: through press credentials. I have to say, I was surprised how easily I managed to get access, but apparently, blogging is now an acceptable 'in' for the shows. (Silly me, for not realizing they realized it sooner!)

Certainly, at this point in time, there's no possible way for bloggers to NOT have access to the shows. Maybe not to the extent that Courtorture managed to last season (see the article below). But it's a guarantee that someone in the guest list blogs and will be posting. Obviously, traditional outlets (and publicists) just can't control the flow of information like they used to. Ignore the blogger at your peril.

Sheryl B., a fashion stylist I met at the tents the first night, was kind enough to send me Bloggers in Tents: Fashion Warms to New Media, posted at MediaBistro.com. According to the article, the show organizers decided to officially open up the shows because "these are credible journalists, and if that's the way news is being distributed, then we want to be a part of it." And yes, the 221 official shows were underattended by the "important people" (i.e., buyers, celebrities, traditional media editors), so I guess we were acceptable filler.

Ok, so all this may be true, but they don't officially tell you a few things. Certainly, it's a means of damage control. Woo those bloggers with access and maybe you'll win them over to the merits of your brand (Hey, there's a reason why brands bother with these shows. They're more impressive in person than from a computer, paging through Style.com). It's also a means of officially keeping a sense of exclusivity at these events while maintaining audience membership. Joe Schmo still can't waltz right in through the front door and get a seat (even if half the shows are not so well attended by the invited guests).

As you can see from my pass, it allows lobby access only, not guaranteed entry to the shows. The organizers for each particular label's show control their lists - not the Fashion Week organizers. I certainly wasn't on the show lists. To be fair, my experience is marred by the fact that I signed up last minute, so there wasn't time to invite me even if they wanted to. But I suspect most bloggers who signed up way in advance still didn't get invitations into the show unless they're big. The Sartorialist being a good example. (Scott, did I actually see you in the front row for Anna Sui?) I definitely met quite a few other bloggers, in the waitlist line for each of the shows I attended. What was interesting was that the waitlist also had plenty of invitation holding guests as well. Yup, you read correctly. Even if you RSVP, you still don't get guaranteed anything unless you're important to the designers. You're there to fill in the empty seats if the editor/buyer/celeb doesn't show up. Just like me.

The other thing they don't tell you is that press access isn't free. Anyone wearing one of the dangly passes above paid to play. Depending on when you registered, each pass granted costs $50-$100. And I highly doubt the NY Times and Vogue writers needed to pay (they got invitations to each of the shows). Only the little guys (and gals) like me did. As someone in the press access line ahead of me told me, our registrations got held up because to a certain extent, we don't actually matter to them.

While I'm certainly grateful to get my foot in the tent without a huge hassle (even with the fee), I definitely maintain my skepticism that the sudden inclusiveness is ushering a new era of press democratization. Maybe you'll get an invite next time around if something you say is particularly noteworthy by the designer. But don't forget that even the NY Times can be revoked for a bad review too (and the designers can be likewise publicly punished for doing so). Actually, maybe the waitlist and the standing room aren't so bad. You can't exactly be slapped by an uninvite unless you were allowed at the party in the first place. And after all, I still maintain that the best viewing spots (trumped only by the front row) are actually in the standing room areas.

Or maybe it's because I'm too short to otherwise see.

Almost Locked in the Dressing Room

I consider myself at least a semi-pro at the whole changing room thing. With so much practice, I can shuck out and regarb in pretty much record time. Screens, sliding latches, hook latches, hanging pieces of cloth, you name it and I've seen it as a door...or at least I thought.

Today, I made a quick stop in Armani Exchange to browse through the sale items, as I was passing the store on Fifth Avenue anyway. I collected quite a few items to try on and a sales woman led me to the fitting room. I guess it's been a while since I've been in the store, as I got really confused when I couldn't figure out why there was no catch, doorknob, latch, or any other means of securing the door behind me. And the door was definitely didn't have some sort of neutral closed position that 'clicked' into place. Maybe this wasn't a real changing room?

Er...no. I was so weirded out (I wasn't going to undress with the whole darn world breezing by while I was changing!) that I walked out to find another room. The sales woman must have known I would be confused and kindly mentioned that I didn't latch the door. Really, no kidding? At this point, she gestured to the mysterious latch...that was at the very, very top of the door!

I shuffled back into the room, then suddenly found the door shut behind me and the latch latched. She told me her name as she walked away, in case I needed something. I jokingly mentioned that I might need her to unlock me from the room - but didn't realize that this wasn't far from the truth! I was luckily wearing my 2" heels or else I could have been a little foolish, jumping up and all to try to snag the latch. Seriously, this latch was 74 inches from the floor and I could barely reach it! (You should all know by now that I carry a measuring tape with me for these critical and embarrassing moments)

Ok, I know. I am really short, and heck, they probably assume that everyone shopping there has a little more altitude than me. But come on, check out the picture - there's no way that this latch is expected to be seen by the average Joe! (or Jane) It blends right in, and you have to be 6'4" to have it at eye level!

As for the items I tried on, nothing quite worked out. They also seem to have a new bizarre extension to their already strange sizing system, which I previously mentioned here. Some of the pants I tried on were a P0 regular, and some were this new oddity of a P0 petite. Unfortunately, I was in too much of a rush to properly measure anything or take a picture, but I seriously couldn't tell if there was actually a distinction. I'll have to follow up on that at a later point.

Man, I didn't realize these stores were made to booby-trap small children! Maybe it's to help babysit the kids while the parents are shopping? An indoor pet/child fence if you will....

I Am Indeed Provably Short and Petite

Kathleen Fasanella, writer of The Entrepreneur's Guide to Sewn Product Manufacturing, keeps the very highly detailed site Fashion-Incubator. Full of information regarding the practical aspects of clothing design and construction, it also has articles and commentary on industry trends. If you actually want to know more about the nitty-gritty side of clothing, this is the place to start. She was kind enough to post a short snippet about me here, in which she describes where I want to be taking this blog in the future. Thanks Kathleen!

What I found particularly amusing was that Kathleen couldn't tell how small I was from my shots. "From her photos, she doesn't look petite at all. Cameras lie." Eek! I guess I didn't leave anything to compare myself against. Well, just so there's no confusion, I'm offering concrete evidence (well, close enough anyway) that I am indeed, very short. It was hard enough juggling the tape measure and camera to get a full body shot, but close enough I think?

Capri Pants??

Summer in New York (especially Manhattan) always kills me - the concrete jungle we live in becomes incredibly hazy and well, disgusting. I'm all for shedding more layers and getting some circulation, but one article of clothing just boggles my mind - capris. Especially for shorter people! I admit that I'm a bit biased as I've never found the look to be particularly attractive on anyone - even tall women. But I just don't understand why a short woman would want to wear something that makes her look even more short.

Don't get me wrong, I understand why people wear them for practical reasons. Sure, they're a bit cooler and show a lot more than a modest full pant leg does, but I find them aesthetically challenging. The shortness of the hem never fails to make me think that it merely chops up a woman's legs, and the blocky effect makes short people look even shorter and stouter. Some would argue that they don't mind looking short, but I don't think 'a little teapot' is exactly what any of us are going for.

I know, the pants in the picture aren't great on me as they're a little too big in the waist/hip area (they're from Banana Republic in 00P). But check out the first picture...I look silly don't I? I feel like I'm borrowing someone's Lederhosen from the Heidelberg restaurant nearby and should start belting out a drinking song!

So instead of looking like a happy, hearty Bavarian, try going for hems that are short or, alternatively, at least ankle length. The idea is to elongate your figure. If you don't break up your leg line, it will give you a longer and sleeker look. That's good no?

It's All Above My Head!

Ok, the typical scenario. I'm out shopping and I see something I kinda like hanging on one of the mannequins. Doing a room scan, I see a rack of them across the room...hanging overhead way out of my reach. How annoying! Everyone that shops here is 5'4" or under - what were they thinking to put stuff so high up???

Well, in a word, wall space. As much complaining about it might be fun, the reality is, stores need to shelve or rack their inventory somewhere. Yeah, they know it's a hassle, but ceilings aren't going to be dropping in height anytime soon. Anyone else thinking of the 13 1/2 floor from Being John Malkovich?

At this point, several options are available to you:

1. Forget about it. This usually involves justifying it to yourself with weak rationalizations. Oh, it's probably more than I want to pay. It's probably not as nice as I think it is. It's probably not gonna look good on me anyway.
   
2. Ask a taller, and hopefully sympathetic, fellow shopper to reach up and help. This usually involves some chit chat about the garment, your height, or both.
   
3. Ask a taller, and hopefully sympathetic, salesperson to help you. This usually involves hearing a few more suggestions for other items from a helpful staff member (along with 'can I set up a room for you?') or an almost rude interaction from a disgruntled worker.
4. Strain mightily on tiptoe at first, and finish with a mighty leap. First, extend a few more inches to peer up and search through the rack for you size. Once the prize has been spotted, lower yourself, bend your knees and jump. Extra points for a successful landing. As items are usually arranged smallest in the front, advanced practitioners of this technique may also become quite adept at guesstimating sizes and skip the first step.
5. Carry a foot stool or robo-arm around and use it. Learn to stop paying attention to funny looks and outright laughter.
   

Fine, I'm a big fan of #4 because I usually like to do things myself - and because it's kinda fun to do something sort of undignified once in a while.

However, I also think stores, particularly those that know they have a shorter clientele, should be a little more accomodating. After all, if customers choose #1 most of the time, stores will wind up selling a little less. Requests to the stores:

1. Use more of the higher wall space for displaying apparel or accessories instead of hanging racks of clothes. This hopefully promotes greater sales for the merchandise up there, as it's easier for customers to notice it and like it.
   
2. A few small steps (that match the decor) could also be set against walls so that customers can easily reach higher items. Steps would also be helpful for staff to put new items up, and can be moveable so that wall setups can be changed.
3. Piles of clothing should have the smallest items shelved lower. This is most applicable for non-petite stores, where height and size are more closely coorelated. I like to help myself rather than be forced to ask staff for help, but even so, doesn't the salesperson get tired of constantly pulling down size 0 jeans for shorties like me?
   

I figure #3 is painless (after rearrangement) as floorspace is not sacrificed. For the first two, there's no reason that a small amount of space can't be given up. After all, mirrors are on the floor and they take away from the merchandise space - but they help push sales too. And if that doesn't help, think of the number of customers that won't be hurting themselves after attempting arial manuvers like me.

A Petite Mission

I live in New York - one of the most diversely populated cities in the world. People of all sizes, shapes, ethnicities, and tastes live here. In this city, you should be able to find anything and everything. So, something as simple as clothing that fits me should be a cinch, right? I mean, for goodness sake, it's Manhattan! The Big Apple! Fashion Capital of the World (or at least, the States)! Really, I can't be that small!

Wrong. I have decided that Fifth Avenue has abandoned me and everyone else outside the average sizing categories. I've been to the H&Ms, the Banana Republics, and even the Bergdorf Goodmans. The trendy indy boutiques in downtown are also not helping me. Fans of Project Runway, I've even stepped into Emmett McCarthy's store EMc2. "My, you're tiny, aren't you?" he asks me, and then proceeds to let me down by telling me nothing in his collection will fit me. (He was very nice about it.)

Clothes should make you feel good about yourself. The right suit will make you more confident for important meetings. That sexy dress will certainly help turn heads. But wait, that's not for people like me. How comfortable do you really feel if that jacket is too big in the shoulders and waist? Still just trying on your mom's clothes? How seductive do you feel when every dress you try on is baggy and saggy? Doing the little dance in the dressing room to pinch and pin down all the parts that need a little nip, tuck, or hem lift (and hoping that tailor will actually do a good job)? I find it insulting that I regularly make it a habit to check the children's section since the "grown up clothes" don't work for me. Sound familiar?

This abnormally short, skinny girl must figure something else out. With no steady dealer of product, I have decided to finally step into the blogosphere and share with the world what I know best about fashion:

The trials and tribulations of the chronically undersized female shopper.

And maybe I'll pick up a hint or two from the rest of you out there.