Ever notice how the American Apparel store looks like a Unicorn stumbled in, drunk and shot a hot stream of uninterrupted Unicorn pee onto every visible surface?
This could be the reason why I can never resist popping in and rummaging through their technicolour racks – and may well also be the legitimate reason for absolutely no smiles, or even a hint of pleasure on the faces of its snake-hipped employees?
Or is it the fact that they just really fancy a big sandwich, since oxygen just isn’t enough to sustain them anymore?
This might not be fair, of course, since many many of the ‘trendy’ stores, in every city in the world comprise a team of poe-faced pre-pubescent but really, it just seems so more apparent here.
It has to be something to do with the contrast between the candy-coloured hoodies and the pale, hungry looking sales girls.
I guess it’s hard to have to deal with the fatties coming in with the intention of buying garments that were designed for Swedish runway models.
And it must be just awful to have to calculate the cost of the items that don’t round up to a neat $42 but how can you be in such a Carebear-friendly environment and still look that miserable?
I walk past the window and get excited. Not that any of the items were designed for my arse but seriously, for just that split second, it feels as though anything at all is possible.
I could buy that Jennifer-Beals-in-Flashdance-esque sweatshirt in Muppet skin pink and all will be right with the world.
On a tangent: where do you girls store your inner organs anyway? I’d love to know. Sure, you’re probably mere months from your sixteen candles, but I never looked like that at that age. When did girls start getting so whippet-like?
Do you just run on sheer youth?
Still, you know what, I won’t boycott the store. I’m not anti-skinny/beautiful/youthful and I’m not insecure about myself just because I am all curve.
We are all beautiful in our different ways and I can see a whole list of pros in being either way.
And they do have a scarf that has piano keys on it.
Sold to the lady at the front with hips!