American Apparel

When I first learned about American Apparel I was delighted. Bright colors, soft cotton, no labels, made for skinnies; it all exuded such sophisticated simplicity. And of course there was that socially responsible/no sweatshops/made in the USA thing.

I'd step in that store and cash would just fly out of my pockets. I couldn't get enough of the soft scoopnecks that fit my scrawny pipes or the skirts that invented a bum where none existed. After awhile, though, it simply lost its novelty.

If I want a plain t-shirt, why shouldn't I just hit Target and drop 10 bucks vs. 36? And I don't really need a moderately-priced, ill-fitting turtleneck in my closet. I'd rather spend a little more at Banana and have it look right. It's not cheap enough to buy in bulk nor quality enough to be expensive. And the holes and stretched-out necks might be hipster-approved, but I'm working towards becoming a professional woman, people. Maybe Kathie Lee was onto something?

What was once appealing about their sizing has become ludicrous; the undergarments, especially, are made for girls with no hips and their "one size fits all" selections are a joke. And, finally. The soft porn in the dressing rooms made me giggle my first time around, but now I just find it distracting. I have to avert my eyes to focus on my own booty shake and not Kiki's.

I still get sucked in when I want a bright colored item with a clean line, but they need to step up their game (show some love for curves, improve quality, find a more sensible price point, tone down the scandalous shots of strangers - are you listening AA?) if they want to win back my heart.