Size 14 is not fat!

This is one of the first articles I had published in the national student magazine 'The Sanctuary' - hope you like it! I've slimmed down a bit since then, but it's a topic that still makes me angry.

 Size 14...ok 15...is NOT Fat!


I probably shouldn’t be admitting this is print, in case my mum decides to use it as concrete evidence that I ought to be paying her rent, but my first delicious thought upon surveying my newly inflated birthday bank balance was a snobbish craving for designer denim. That elusive pair of beautifully crafted jeans that will shrink your tum and enhance your bum whilst giving you lithe pins to rival Kate Moss. Surely the woeful inadequacies of the high street’s unforgiving cuts would be magically erased by an eye-catching emblem on the back pocket and an extra hundred quid bumped onto the silk woven price tag. With such lustful fantasies in mind, I seized my unusually bulging purse and hurried to a certain designer store, the epitome of sleek sophistication and the supposed haunt of Nottingham’s high flying career girls.


Now in the interests of ground breaking journalism (nothing wrong with a healthy optimism), I am prepared to disclose that most guarded of all women’s secrets, the big cheese amongst an effortless stream of white lies such as, ‘Oh yes, I go to the gym every evening dahling!’; I, Louisa Jayne Burt, am a curvy, perfectly rounded Size 14. Or 15 on fat days. Nevertheless, according to numerous websites, I perfectly embody the average British woman. With all of the recent backlash at Size 0 catwalk models, this average seems a fairly great place to be right now. Granted, that doesn’t stop me feeling a smidgen guilty when eyeing up the deliciously tempting double chocolate cake in Costa (and inevitably giving in). But as long as I can still indulge in my love of fashion at the same time, I won’t be complaining.


Yet this is the crux of the problem. Ten minutes after entering this boutique paradise, I found myself deposited back onto the pavement, very dejected and hugely annoyed, with a large amount of steam emanating from both ears. In short, upon asking for a Size 32 waist, I was treated to a derisive glare from a perfectly polished shop assistant that screamed, ‘how dare you enter our world, fatty!’ I was then half-heartedly proffered a pair of Size 31s that had probably been festering in the stockroom since they were delivered back in the dark ages, and into which I could probably have squeezed after an aggressive course of liposuction. As if I wasn’t feeling alienated enough by this point, I was then smugly informed that there wasn’t a pair my size to be found in the whole company. Red faced and resolving to eat only rice crackers for the foreseeable future, I thus renounced my lofty designer dreams and restored my allegiance to that faithful student friend, beloved Topshop.


However, it seems this pitiful inequality doesn’t only apply to designer denim. A visit to my local branch of Topshop soon enlightened me on that matter, finding as I sadly did at least 15 pairs of Size 10s on the rail and not one 14, never mind a 16. A shop assistant further informed me that they had made repeated requests for larger sizes, which have continuously been ignored.


What I am trying to express with this angsty tirade is the urgent need for all retailers, high end and high street, to recognise that curvy girls love fashion too! Unless the current situation changes, we may soon be forced to abandon our on trend ambitions and instead frequent campus in tracksuit bottoms and our boyfriends’ oversized shirts. Furthermore, no one wants to be seen emerging from a super sized only store. Now where did I put those rice crackers...?


HOT TIP: On my travels, I found that French Connection stocked both Size 14 and 16 in a variety of styles, all extremely stylish and very well cut, giving a designer look for around half the price. Shh!