As a lifelong fat person, one of my personal hells is finding something fashionable to wear. I remember shopping with my mom when I was a kid in the plus-size section of a department store and crying in the dressing room (on more than one occasion) because the clothing that fit looked like it belonged in the wardrobe of an 80-year-old woman with a floral print couch in her living room and lace doilies displayed on her coffee table. All I ever wanted as a kid was to fit in and virtually be invisible to my peers because I didn’t want to stand out as the fat girl walking down the hallway. Ridiculous, I think to myself now, I was big and I did stand out, especially wearing the clothing options that were available to me in the early to mid-2000s.
In an industry that chooses not to cater for my body, I still feel the same in my late twenties, you may even catch me in a department store dressing room crying about the options available in my size today. Ask any bigger person who has to shop at the last minute for a special occasion and they will no doubt share similar war stories. I search for weeks to find something to wear to a formal event like a wedding and I always come back to online fast fashion sites because guess what? They are the ones making fashionable and affordable pieces for bigger people. This isn’t news to plus-size people, in fact, anyone who has been overweight is probably nodding along in agreement, but I’m writing this for the straight-size people who have no idea what it feels like to feel discriminated against for their size.
Though the fashion industry has made leaps and bounds since I was a fat teen — it’s still an uphill battle. Even though there are now places for bigger people to find more clothing options available to them, we pay the ‘fat tax’ as I like to think of it, with clothing priced twice as much for the fashionable options, or on the other side of the spectrum, ultra-cheap clothing that will disintegrate after a few wears. ASOS Curve used to be my go-to place for trend pieces, but lately, the trendy options and overall fit of the clothing are lacking. I feel the “Ozempic-ification” of everything is perpetuating the reverse of fashionable options too. Look anywhere and you will find that the ultra-thin “heroin chic” look is trying to make a comeback. The infamous line supermodel Kate Moss said in 2009 plays in my head like a broken record, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” A mantra I can’t shake, 15 years later.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, thoughts that I’ve buried deep thanks to diet culture and growing up with media publicly scrutinising celebrities by calling them vicious names in the tabloids for gaining a few pounds. I looked at them in my adolescence and thought, “I wish I was their size, what do people think when they see me?”
I know a lot of these feelings were stirred up after attending Australian Fashion Week this year. I’ve attended fashion week for five years now among industry figures, models, influencers media and of course a slew of photographers. Everyone poses against the recognisable brick walls and every year I can’t help but feel out of place and alienated. Photographers rush to get the shot of attendees lining up for a show actively avoiding my direction, turning their cameras down as I walk past, and I wonder, “Is it me?” But it’s not only me, it's the other plus-size people in attendance too. I can’t speak for all, but I’ve spoken to some who share the same sentiment. I stand to the side of the mayhem as cameras flash while I wait for an industry colleague to meet me for the next show. I watch, I wait and I think, “Am I dressed appropriately? Are my clothes not up to scratch?” I see a woman walk past in almost an identical outfit to me and a photographer scurries to take her photo, she ends up in a street-style article in the newspaper the next day. Unless a bigger person in attendance is dressed outrageously, they go unnoticed, but if they show up in theatrical costume, that warrants the attention for photogs to snap a pic. Last year a group of my friends and I got together and asked a photographer if she could snap a quick picture of us and she put her camera down and said, “Sure! Whose phone am I taking it on?”
Nothing has changed since the 'Curve Edit' show in 2022 which showcased bodies sized 12 to 26 for the first time in Australian Fashion Week’s history thanks to Chelsea Bonner, body advocate and founder of model agency BELLA Management. That show was long overdue, and I had a glimmer of hope after attending in 2022 that change was on the horizon for the Australian fashion industry. I sat at the front so proudly with tears in my eyes for the representation and inclusivity I’ve so deeply craved not only at fashion week, but my whole life. A friend sitting next to me pointed out one of the looks on the runway and said, “I could see you wearing that!” I nodded wiping a tear, seeing myself for the first time represented on the runway.
This year Vogue Australia wrote an ‘inclusivity report’ which uncovered a breakdown of the AAFW shows for 2024 and the results were both shocking and unsurprising with body diversity in decline and “plus-size representation making up 1.1 per cent of looks.” Classifying plus size as an Australian size 18+ (US size 14) and mid-size as an Australian size 10-16 (US size 6-12). Katie-Louise and Lilian Nicol-Ford of Nicol & Ford lead with the most size representation size inclusive representation telling Vogue Australia, “Our models are, in the majority, long-standing friends, which reflects the gorgeous diversity of Sydney's queer scene. We do keep in mind that we want our runways to have a broad representation—across size, gender and sexuality, aiming to utilise a range of beautiful bodies as vehicles for the narratives underpinning our work.”
Jordan Gogos of Iordanes Spyridon Gogos who cast the most plus-size models also told Vogue Australia, “I love different bodies,” he said to Vogue. “I come from a household and family of predominantly all plus-size women who love who they are. Being anything other wasn’t really a topic of discussion growing up.”
Vogue Australia went on to outline in their report that designer Mastani and two designers from IMG’s Next Gen presentation joined the lineup for most size-inclusive representation at this year’s shows. All I can say is to Katie-Louise and Lilian Nicol-Ford, Jordan Gogos, Mastani and the two designers from Next Gen is thank you for being the leaders we need more of in the Australian fashion space. To the Australian Fashion Industry as a whole, do better. I’m tired of thinking Australia is ‘just behind’ when it comes to size-inclusive fashion, there’s just no excuse for it, they just don’t want to do it, even though the profits for them would be astronomical to cater for bigger bodies. Even in an economic crisis, they still won’t make clothes for us, and that speaks volumes.
I probably need years of therapy to undo the toxicity that I’ve been exposed to growing up fat. But in a way, writing this is a form of catharsis to share something I rarely speak about, it seems to boil up every year after fashion week. I keep it in like a secret people can’t see, unlike my weight. I don’t think people really see me, my weight will always come first until someone gets to know me for the person I am underneath. I’ve had people say to me I wasn’t “what they were expecting,” and consciously or unconsciously monitor what I eat, how much and comment, “You eat ‘healthy’,” or “You don’t eat as much as me.” Almost to say, “Why are you fat?”, which people have also asked me, like, “What’s wrong with you?” That is what they’re really saying.
I can’t help but laugh because for so many years I agreed with them, “What is wrong with me?” I thought. What was this divine punishment of fatness that was bestowed upon me and what can I do to rectify this curse? After years of punishing myself for purely existing in this body, I refuse to let the outside noise consume me and it's freeing.
I can almost hear the haters yelling at their screens, and all I have to say to them is eat a cupcake darling, your blood sugar must be low.