
The Setting: an American Apparel store in Brooklyn
The Characters: 2 girls, about 13 years old, and me
And, scene:
I am waiting to try on some cropped cotton pants, which will be perfect for the new gym I joined.
“Ugh, this is SO tight, I look SO fat!” says one 13 year old girl. She and her friend are occupying the only dressing rooms.
She emerges, in a backless leotard and a skin-tight mini skirt.
Her friend emerges as well, in gold lame hot pants.
“No, you look cute! I like it!”
“But like, you can see my back.”
“Yeah but it’s so cute! My ass looks huge in these,” she says, as they stand in the open dressing room, preening and posing in front of the harshly lit mirror. I am still waiting, but they don’t seem to notice, instead gazing like Narcissus at the river. How inappropriate, I think, that 13-year-old girls are trying on gold lame hot pants. Then I look around and see the life-sized photographs of underage models staring down at me. They look drugged out. They are overly sexualized. Suddenly I don’t want the pants anymore. I throw them down and leave. Read More »




Recently, after spending about an hour trying to find something to wear for poker night, I realized my closet was seriously lacking. I had tons of cute skirts for work, shirts to match, great shoes, and dresses. What I didn’t have were things most girls live in—great jeans, casual t-shirts, and anything under a 3-inch heel.