An Insider's Perspective Part 1: Outfitters to the Gentry

  I am writing of a matter not widely addressed by the public, yet it has played on my conscience for a considerable amount of time now. Until you have worked in fashion retail you cannot quite comprehend the shallow image and scandalous ethos underlying these reputable brands. Having Been employed by two major companies in the industry, it has come to my attention just how damaging the pressures can be.

  I am not the first, nor will I be the last to be pushed out of a major corporation for my unwillingness to conform but it begs the question "If the customers knew what was going on behind the scenes would they still shop there?"

  I started off in fashion retail in Winchester where I worked for an 'outfitters for the gentry': at the age of 16 having a job your friends and foe lust over seemed appealing, and the idea of an abundance of free clothes and generous discounts rather compelling.. I admit, I did lose my morals temporarily! My first day in the job I was in awe of my coworkers: they all wore fancy heeled Chelsea boots and trotted around the little store like their presence truly made a difference. I shadowed an older girl for my first shift, she led me round women's wear and tutted at the site of a size 14 at the front of a rail "BIG sizes remain at the back!" this was the first thing I learnt about working here: you were anorexic, a size 6 or irrelevant! The store was rifled with stories of sex, drink and bullemia causing unplanned pregnancy, which to a girl just out of senior school seemed a foreign concept. Size applied to our clientel too; the younger, skinny and prettier you were, the more your needs mattered.

  I lived out the rest of my days here constantly in fear of being the next one talked about; "that other young girl's a mess, did you hear about what happened last Tuesday?"; "did you see his girlfriend the other day? She asked me for a size 6... I brought down a 14" this idle gossip didn't just come from a midweek girl either, there was a definitive hierarchy that I was too naive to figure out until I had become engulfed by it. This hierarchical society consisted of those worthy of our manager's inner sanctum: her little white room, that was a complete contradiction to any peaceful connotations. This white room lay home to a handful: those with a higher wage,  and then full-frontal ass licks! These were the sort of girls that would latch their workload onto the back of a newbie, such as myself, then once our petty little four hour shift was complete and no one was around to object, would bask in our unsung glory.

  For me, Saturdays were immoral. Adoring husbands in hope of a second look from their wives would swarm the store by the dozen, kids hanging off one arm and a thick wallet the other, asking myself and other associates advice on the latest fashion for a lady. Never were we plain and honest "Oh yes, this two hundred pound tightly fitted blazer would be perfect for your wife's volumptuous physique!" See, our sales pitch was comprised souley on a manager's last bid for a cash bonus at the end of each month: we worked on a philosophy of our buyers sheer willingness to swipe a card, and not their lifelong custom.

  Growing up I lived in the clothes provided by this Great British mockery; the garments always felt personal and exclusive as word was barely out on this West coast treasure, but through business and commerce came destruction of a once family run business, and with it all morals perished. We talk of the pressures in the media for the next generation to be skinnier than the last, and endorse clothes warn by girls stripped from the streets of poverty ridden countries, still carrying the physique to match. Working under the false pretention that to represent a company claiming to be 'truly British' you must be on the brink of hospitalisation for that size 4 figure we used scrapes of fabric to stock down to now leaves its lasting mark on a young employee. Conformity wheedles its way into the minds of the employed and are perception of beauty is contorted to that of a corporation's underlying message: ever wondered why a size 14 seems so few and far between here? "BIG sizes at the back" my opinion is just some food for thought.. Next time you're browsing why not look, though?

Melanie
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