Why I Started a Store for Plus-Size Vintage Clothing
In this op-ed, Berriez vintage shop owner Emma Zack details her experience shopping secondhand clothing as a plus-size woman, and why she started an Instagram account that sells vintage clothing curvy people are often told not to wear.
I was 12 years old when I cried on the floor of a Macy’s dressing room, one of those carpeted fitting rooms with the harsh overhead fluorescent lighting and three full-length mirrors that make you cringe from every angle. My mom walked in and found me bawling in the corner. Her arm was weighed down by the pile of potential bat mitzvah dresses we both knew weren’t going to zip all the way up. I still remember that day, 15 years later.
I’ve been curvy since I was 10 years old, when I was already wearing grown-up bras to match my grown-up hips, arms, and legs. Back then, shopping was usually a traumatic experience: hours of looking through clothing I knew wouldn’t fit me but was going to fit my thin mom or whatever friend I was with.
Over the years, I’ve realized that my story is far from unique. Even though 67% of women in the United States are a size 14 and up, “plus-size” women only account for 1 to 2% of the bodies represented in mainstream media. Certainly, there has been a noticeable rise in the representation of plus-size folks in the fashion industry, including models Paloma Elsesser, Ashley Graham, Precious Lee, and Tess Holliday gracing the covers of magazines and posing in worldwide campaigns. Still, in the world of vintage and secondhand fashion, the representation of, and options for, bodies sizes eight and up isn’t quite there yet. Like the fashion industry in general, the vintage market tends to favor a more petite body type.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned to love my body and fashion that accentuates it. I discovered vintage clothing through my grandmother, who would have been a modern-day size 12 or 14. When my mom gave me a few of her pieces to try wearing, I remember loving their fit, uniqueness, and knowing I would be channeling my grandmother’s energy each time I wore one of them. Wearing her clothing was the gateway into my thrifting obsession, which began when I moved to Los Angeles for college. I realized I had a better chance of finding something at a thrift shop that fit than at most retail shops.
A few years ago, I discovered I could shop for vintage clothing directly from Instagram. That is, until I started scrolling. I remember sitting in my apartment for hours looking through what felt like hundreds of Instagram shops and never finding anything in my size. For the most part, the models looked smaller than I was at my bat mitzvah when I was 13 years old. Occasionally, I’d find a shop selling something ‘oversized’ on its page (still shown on a thin model), and I’d buy it immediately. Even if I wasn’t particularly thrilled about the piece, I was just excited there was something in my size. Or so I thought. The clothes usually didn’t fit, and none of them were returnable.
After amassing piles of ill-fitting vintage clothes from dozens of online vintage stores, I decided to start reselling the pieces that didn’t work for my body. My friend Vanessa and I set up a clothing rack in my living room, inventoried everything, came up with a name for my potential shop, and took photos of me modeling the clothing in my backyard. I sent the pictures to some friends and asked for their thoughts. Their genuine interest and excitement led to the creation of my online vintage shop, Berriez (formerly known as Fruity Looms). In November, I started having small photo shoots with more of my friends in my backyard. It was a time when we could hang out, play dress up, be creative, and have fun. And within a few months, people I didn’t know started contacting me to ask if they could model, or if I could lend them my clothing for their own shoots.
It didn’t take long for me to notice the demand for plus-size vintage, and the data exists to prove it: according to Bloomberg, “The plus-size retail apparel market represents a $20 billion opportunity, with growth outpacing the overall market 17 to 7% in 2016, and a consumer base starved for quality clothing.” But in an article about why “fashion disruptors” such as Everlane don’t carry options above a size XL, a reporter for Vox wrote, “For fat women in the U.S., it’s fast fashion or almost nothing.” As of late, the fashion industry is shifting its focus toward sustainability and inclusivity, so why shouldn’t curvy people have more clothing options, more specifically, vintage and secondhand?
As interest grew, I could no longer rely solely on selling pieces from my own closet, so I began sourcing more clothing from thrift shops and flea markets. Although sifting through piles of clothing, mostly made up of pieces in smaller sizes, is sometimes overwhelming, finding a cute, vintage piece in a size bigger than a 12 is always worth the effort. Whenever I search for new items, I always make sure to look for clothing that plus-size people are typically told not to wear: bold prints, bright colors, and clothing that forms to your figure. Oh, and fruit patterns. Why fruit? Because humans, like fruit, are uniquely vibrant, sweet, and desirable at any size, shape, or shade.
Over the past few months, I’ve realized I’m not the only one trying to create fashionable solutions for people like me. Since starting Berriez, I’ve encountered a number of other plus-size vintage Instagram shops including Luvsick Plus, The Plus Bus, Plus BKLYN, and More Than Your Average. I’m excited to see that there are growing options out there for people who don’t want to compromise the fit or style of their clothing.
Almost every day I receive a direct message on Instagram from someone writing to let me know how much they love and appreciate that I’m selling vintage in larger sizes. One of the more recent messages said, “I love your shop! It’s so hard to find cute vintage clothing catered for my body type, and I really respect what you are doing.” When people come to shop Berriez in real life (i.e., the five colorful racks of clothing in the basement of my apartment), they always find at least three things that fit them. Honestly, I’ve never had someone come by and leave empty-handed. So often people tell me, “Wow, I’ve never found so many pieces in one place that fit and that I feel beautiful in.” On days when I feel overwhelmed, sentiments like these remind me to keep doing what I’m doing, because everyone deserves a positive shopping experience. More importantly, everyone deserves to feel beautiful.
My basement, backyard, Instagram, and wherever else I shoot are essentially my version of the ideal fitting room — the one I wish I’d had when I was younger. I hope to make the shopping experience the opposite of demoralizing; I want it to be fun. I want to make people, whether they’re models, customers, or individuals scrolling through our Instagram feed, feel good about themselves.
Berriez strives to be accessible to all. This goal may be limited by the items I am able to source, but inclusivity and, of course, representation will always be at the core of Berriez.
You can catch Berriez IRL at the Hester Street Fair on July 27 in New York, or schedule a studio visit through the shop’s website.
Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue
