The Delia*s Woman

Tangled up in beige

Sometimes I get clothing catalogs that are just plain rude. I’m only in my early 40’s yet I am on some lists that have identified me as a shrinking old woman who simply doesn’t want to get in anyone’s way, with every color bland, every fabric linen, and every single edge, including the pockets flowy. Or, that I am interested in St. John-style outfits, sensible and “sharp” to perhaps wear to the country club holiday breakfast or a business dinner with my husband.

Do you remember Delia*s? I loved getting it in the mail when I was a youth. I didn’t order much if anything from it, but still, I pored over it because the catalog taught me what a girl should be in the 1990’s:

What I loved about that era was how it advertised clothes for girls unafraid to stand out, look goofy, and be loud (literally and in terms of style.) Of course, I was afraid to stand out, look goofy and be loud back then, but I still appreciated the sentiment that I might not be.

Now, compare that to the messages from the catalogs I get now:

“Don’t mind me; after I serve you a sensible snack my pleats and I are going to stand back and blend into my neutral wall.”

“I used to have blue hair and a pierced nipple and my version of that now is ironed jeans with saucy flipped collar and sleeves.”

“How does that Cake song go? ‘I want a girl in a cropped pant and a looonnnnnggggggggg tunic.’”

“You are what you eat. This morning for me it was a wet bowl of overnight oats. Shout out to my symbolic dried-up brittle background palm.”

“My feet have hurt since 2012.”

“I’m not sure why you’re taking a photo of just me when we hired you to take pictures of the family for our holiday card but, fine.”

“My future daughter-in-law may not have been born yet, but still, my upper arms and I are ready for the wedding when it does happen.”

“My hubby works in finance and sometimes at parties after a few drinks he hugs my friends in a weird way and I pretend not to notice. His feet also reek because he refuses to wear socks with his loafers.”

I know it would be ridiculous these days to be marketed clothes and models in Delia*s poses, but still, I’d like some nod to the ‘90’s girl within. Maybe the woman in an Athleta skort could pretend to scream, or an Eileen Fisher model could just give a low middle-finger, it grazing the faint idea of a leg outline through her black flowing linen dress.

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I hope you enjoyed this issue of Evil Witches, a newsletter for people who happen to be mothers but who are still alive. If you liked this issue, check out “The People in the Sundance Catalog Don’t Know Yet.” If you have any questions, feedback, or suggestions for the newsletter you can reply right to this email. You can follow us on Instagram here and talk to other witches on Twitter, too. If you like this newsletter please consider giving it a shout on social media. If you haven’t yet, switch from the free to the paid subscription to get bonus content and fun honest discussion threads.

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