If I had to pinpoint the precursor to the Side Boob trend, I’d probs go with something obvious, like eighties cleavage.

Apparently, my knowledge of boob trends isn’t entirely up to snuff.

Do the Side Boob, and you sacrifice support. Do the NIPPLE BRA, and you get to be slutty AND perky! The mini-erasers built into the lingerie allow you to look aroused and/or cold ALL THE TIME!

This ad’s from the seventies, which means it’s almost time for the Nipple Bra to make a comeback. Witness the Side Boob’s past and future. Oy. Effing. Vey.

Yes, they go on sale and yes, Buffalo Exchange usually has some old Alternative inventory priced in the fifteen dollar range, but what if you’re super impatient and you want a current style for less circa NOW???

Let’s answer that question with another question: Did you know you can snag current Alternative Apparel styles at wholesale prices? Did you know it was possible to pay wholesale cost WITHOUT buying in bulk? Me neither… until I discovered a few wholesale t-shirt sites that (a) carry current Alternative Apparel styles and (b) don’t require you to purchase en masse. Bulk Wholesale Tees and gotapparel.com are my latest discoveries, and hot diggity DAMN, am I smitten!

Observe the below Retail vs. Wholesale comparisons. Retail pics on right, Wholesale pics on left. Visually identical, with one glaring difference – the left side pics cost a fraction of what you’d normally pay.

The Burnout Tunic – Retail: $38.00; Wholesale: $10.44

The Organic A-Line V-Neck – Retail: $32.00; Wholesale: $9.67

The Debbie Tee – Retail: $32.00; Wholesale: $10.32

Sidebar: Isn’t it refreshing to see women modeling t-shirts without looking like they’re competing in a wet t-shirt contest?

Yes. Yes it is.

TAKE BACK THE GENDER. BOYCOTT AA.

After you’ve joined the Facebook Movement Against American Apparel-clad T&A, feel free to create your own versions of the propaganda below.

And, just for fun, let’s compare/contrast some dude responses to my I-AM-WOMAN roars:

In response to The Slut Jig is Up, Jordan wrote:

so marry me please. i actually can not STAND what american apparel ads do to the status of women as consumers and as human beings. please post the link to the facebook campaign when you have it up and going, i will invite ALL of my friends.

What a dollface. Do we love him? Yes we do. Onto Matthew:

first-world, middle class, 1990s feminism.

Really, dude? Your misogyny isn’t offensive so much as predictably uncreative. You can get the fuck off my blog now.

Apparently, the entrants in  American Apparel’s Best Bottom Contest don’t feel the same way.

Firstly: let’s talk about the media’s treatment of a contest that reeks of female objectification (i.e. American Apparel’s other area of expertise). NBC’s The Thread‘s coverage consisted of a cutesy title (Push for Tush…eew) and a regurgitated press release. Viralogy used the competition as a Social Media Case Study. Aside from the Tennessee Guerilla Women, no one else said boo. Another instance of American Apparel’s pushing the sex-and- body-consciousness envelope is old news… isn’t it?

Sexing up the average tee or tank is a brilliant marketing tool, particularly when you’ve got ethical manufacturing practices to fall back on. Bring on the come-hither eyes, the crotch shots, the nipple flashes, the blow job faces – as long as the chicks are in sweatshop-free clothes (or lack thereof), a morally questionable portrayal of women ain’t no thang. The ads obvs don’t do much to bolster feminine self-esteem, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they denigrate it either. If you want to argue that American Apparel ads have real-life consequences – that they result in a girl’s valuing her T&A over her I (her self, her intellect – take your pick) – you need evidence.

Evidence like the one thousand, one hundred and two women who’ve slapped their almost-naked asses online in hopes of becoming America’s Next Top Butt.

The Search for the Best Bottom in America isn’t a traditional AA ad campaign – it’s worse. This isn’t the brand objectifying women. This is women choosing to objectify themselves. American Apparel’s ads are designed to make us feel prude, to make us feel like we need to loosen up, to make us think that maybe if we weren’t so modest, guys would be as turned on by us as they seem to be by the girls in the campaigns. They make us forget everything that makes us more than the sum of our superficial parts.

American Apparel ads strip women of more than their clothes – they strip them of their humanity. They make it seem okay to let your American Apparel undie-clad ass define all that you are. The ads aren’t going to change any time soon. What has to change first is our response to them: We have to stop believing what they imply.

My lust for leggings is strong, but not as strong as my desire to stop being framed as a hipster slut, which is what I’m starting to feel like every single time I don a pair from AA.

If we want to be thought of as anything other than casual sex objects, we have to stop giving this brand permission to frame us in that context. How do we take back the gender? We pull the money plug. From this day on, I will not fund any more of this nonsense.

Want to join me? Stay tuned for a link to the Facebook Campaign. (Also for brand alternatives to AA. If we’re going to quit the line cold turkey, we need to find well-priced basics elsewhere: They will be our Nicorette.)

TAKE BACK THE GENDER – BOYCOTT AA.

I bought an American Apparel fanny for the occasion, and defaced it shortly thereafter by penning something like ‘AA slut oops I mean model’ in paint marker. The overall effect won over my fellow party-goers that evening – I suspect my bf’s fake mustache and creepy clear aviators had more to do with their amusement than my fanny pack.

The fanny was relegated to the back corners of my closet after that night, as it obvs couldn’t be worn in public in its gimmicky state. A makeover was in order, so I busted out some sequins, duct tape, silver paint markers, and my trusty Housing Works $5 Bag of Kitsch and got to work.

I was delighted by its new look. I was also pleased to discover that fannies can be worn across the shoulder as opposed to at the waist.

It’s still fairly gimmicky, but whatevs. I DIG.

Said enchantment dissolved upon learning that the Unisex Circle Scarf and the Super Sheer Circle Scarf retail for $28.00 and $37.00, respectively.

Beotch please – for a piece of fabric cut into a circular strip, anything over twenty is pushing it. I made a subtle gagging noise, and exited the store in search of alternatives.

I then headed uptown to Paron Fabrics for some t-shirt-esque material sold by the yard. Paron is known and hailed for their 50% off selection and it did not disappoint: A yard of on-sale jersey knit cost me all of six bucks.

After you’ve scissored, glued and fray-checked your way to a circular piece of fabric, loop it around your neck about nine times – the more times you loop, the cooler it looks. I highly recommend toeing the line between choking and not choking here. Fashion not function, people, fashion not function.

The DIY Infinity Scarf Project took an hour in its entirety, saved me at least $30.00, and quelled my urge to stick it to American Apparel for trying unsuccessfully to rip me off.

Tres satisfying.

This means a secondhand cotton tee can be questionable, depending on who’s sweated in it before you. If it has pitstains, it’s probs not something you want to wear. Or touch, for that matter. Just use your head. That’s that lump that’s three feet above your ass.

Synthetic fabrics a la nylon, polyester and spandex are more water-repellent; that means moisture, odors, etc. are a lot less likely to stick around. This is me, rationalizing the below purchase.



If these absurd/amazing Cloud Print American Apparel Leggings were cotton or jersey knit, I’d have left them on the rack at Beacon’s Closet. The fact that they’re crafted from a AA’s uber synthetic Elastane blend meant they were fair game. Also a stellar deal, seeing as the same style/material retails in store for forty buckaroos.

Yippity skippity.

On the fourth day, I tried to wear something other than the wundertank, for the sake of variety.

I couldn’t do it. In the space of a few days, I’d become a veritable tank top junkie. I needed another fix in different colors and I needed it ASAP. So I walked around the corner to my nearest American Apparel and bought two more (in White and Sea Foam).

Once upon a time, I would have balked at the prospect of spending ninety dollars on three tank tops. Do I regret how much these puppies cost? You bet. Do I regret buying them in spite of monetary consequences? Not a lick.

I hate your pricetags, American Apparel. But, hot damn, I heart your clothes.

Speaking of ridiculousness, let’s now discuss the cut. I had my doubts about Dov Charney’s perviness until about an hour into this dress’s inaugural wear. It doesn’t matter how tight you tie the straps around the neck. The material is designed to expose side-boobage – the longer it’s worn, the more it responds to gravitational pull with a continual downward stretch. Men do not seem to have a problem with this, if my boyfriend’s response is any indication.

(What’s so attractive about the side-boob thing anyway? Are guys hoping for a nipple shot or something? Bizarre, these creatures are (Yoda, I am typing like)).

I had a lovely time prancing around this dress in my apartment, but I knew I’d feel a bit nekkid wearing it out in public.

I needed an addition to effectively foil Operation: Side-Boob; a top of sorts that would enable me to wear the dress without feeling like a stumbling, eye-make-up-smeared AA ad.

Enter yesterday’s Sheer Navy Tunic by Velvet ($22 at Greene Street Consignment, in case anyone forgot).

Uh oh, Dov. I think I just de-sluttified one of your greatest inventions.

When I’m faced with a tempting $5, $10, $15 sale of this ilk, I like to play a little game called Would I Ever Pay Full Price For That? If the answer’s Maybe or Yes, the item gets a pass. If it’s a resounding No, I don’t care how cheap it is. You’re never going to wear that shizzz.

Let’s see how the Rummage Sale fares when this exercise is applied to its offerings.

Would I ever pay $16 for a Loop Terry Halter Bra? What IS this? A bra, a top, a garment American Apparel encourages its models to wear out in public with men’s button-down shirts (unbuttoned) to reinforce the notion that wearing this brand gets you laid? A terrycloth string bikini top might support an A-cup, but that ain’t me. It’s only $2 now (shocker), but I’d give this idiotic concoction a No even if were free.

Would I ever pay $25 for California Fleece Shorts? Yet another overpriced item too slutty to wear out in public. Also, these shorts are only available in two colors: Baby blue and Red, i.e. two shades that blimp out even the tightest of buns. All $5 buys you is the appearance of a fat ass.

Would I ever pay $36 for Unisex California Fleece Track Pants? When ascribed to pants, the term Unisex can be interpreted as: shapeless enough to accommodate balls if you have them. Even a Rummage Sale price of $15 can’t change that.


Would I ever pay $16 for Loop Terry High-Rise Briefs? Again, with the fucking terrycloth. A material that makes pantylines inevitable, and you’re manufacturing underwear out of it. What am I supposed to do with these, prance around my apartment and pretend I’m at the co-ed slumber party that is the American Apparel photo shoot? I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

Would I ever pay $28 for a Unisex Flex Fleece Schoolboy Vest? Depends. Is preggers the new black?

I’ll totally cop to highlighting the worst of the worst here. The Rummage Sale merch also includes a fair amount of decent-looking basic tees in various styles, none of which I’m buying because none of them are Tri-Blend. My personal favorite, the Unisex Tri-Blend Short Sleeve Deep V-Neck, is still $22 at American Apparel’s online store.

The very same tee can be had for $9.99 at Amazon.com, a much better online option for reduced-price basics.

Say NO to the Rummage Sale, and shop there instead.

A good Cheap JAP knows there is always a way. A GREAT Cheap JAP shares her discoveries so we too can know the way.

This is why Alina, who passed on the following tip, rocks the hizzy.

I would be a terrible Cheap JAP in training if i did not send a fellow AA lover this:
American Apparel at amazon.com.

Tri-Blend Deep V-Neck Tees for $8.99, among other things. All legit AA, All ON SALE. All hail amazon.com, and Alina too. Girlfriend – you just shared your way to stellar shopping karma for liiiiife!

you know, i ALWAYS admire your thrift, cheap jap, and i definitely don’t admire AA’s prices (nor dov charney’s), but i do appreciate american apparel’s fair labor standards, which undoubtedly are not shared by target. just something to put out there, though i know from experience that even expert thrifters can’t always avoid retail (especially for the basics).

Firstly, many thanks to zhozhi and to all those who echoed her concerns regarding Target’s ghastly labor (and, as it turns out, environmental) standards. When something like six dollar tri-blend tanks come along, it’s all-too-convenient to forget WHY they’re so effing cheap. Ignorance is bliss, so if you’d like to continue shopping at Target guilt-free, stop reading this post NOW.

I’m of the mind that a smart shopper understands that ‘cost’ applies to more than a pricetag: If you’re on board with that, take a look at Target’s Responsible Shopper Profile and allow yourself a big fat fucking OY VEY.

Target is the subject of repeated allegations of sweatshop sourcing worldwide.
Target was fined by the EPA for failing to disclose the percentage of pesticides in its products.
The NAACP gave Target an “F” for its lack of commitment to African Americans and other people of color.

So what’s your six bucks really paying for? Dire factory conditions, pesticide-related fines, and racist hiring practices.  As is often the case with chains of this ilk, small pricetags have big environmental and ethical implications. And while it’s tough to avoid corporate clothing entirely – particularly in a recession – it’s still important to acknowledge that you’re paying for more than a cheap shirt. Not many can afford to always opt for American Apparel over Target, but those who can undoubtedly should.

I no longer feel fab about patronizing Target, but the lure of the Cheap is too powerful for me to say I’ll never do so again; I like to think that shopping American Apparel (and subsequently contributing to their more human and earth-friendly practices) evens things out. (For a study in balance, see this outfit – the skirt’s AA, the top’s Tar-jay, and the belt is a pair of old tights cut into strips and knotted end-to-end.)

Now obviously, the most responsible thing would be to stop shopping Target altogether because it’s bad for the world, and stop shopping American Apparel altogether because it’s bad for my checking account. Except for the Stop Shopping Altogether part. I’m a realist and a materialist, people. Saint Cheap JAP just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

I’m kidding, kind of. I don’t feel deliberately left out of the loop, and I know your lack of Sharesies wasn’t intentional. But I’m going to piggyback off of it anyway, because it illustrates something icky we can’t help but feel in relation to Fashion – something that happens rarely on this blog (and it better not start), but something I see all too often in other mediums: Competition.

Whenever I read the reviews in Yelp’s Thrift/Consignment Stores section, I almost always see something like this:

I wasn’t going to comment on this store because the deals are, like, sooo amazing and I don’t want you girls to take all the good shit! I found this FIRST goddammit, but according to Yelp, you all know about it anyway. So I’m going to brag about all the great stuff I found to discourage you from moving in on my territory, ’cause I’m clearly a better shopper than you.

I’m obvs paraphrasing, but you get my drift. Because the Recession’s like, so hot right now, budget shopping – secondhand and otherwise – has a lot of new converts; former fashionistas more comfortable with battling it out at the Barney’s Warehouse Sale than with sharing their coveted secrets. And that is So Not Okay. Part of why I’m a kickass shopper is practice, but another part of it is Karma. Good Shopping Karma comes from being good to your fellow shoppers, from acting in accordance with the notion that Sharing is Caring. I don’t need you to share your tips, trials, finds and frustrations with me: I just want you to share them with each other. (Yes, I sound like a Sesame Street character, no, I don’t care.) So use this blog to do it. And don’t even think about hoarding info on something we can ALL use like a Basic V-Neck Tee again.

This brings us to our Karma All-Star of the day, Emma, who wrote:

Last time my mom and I were at Target, we saw some Tri-Blend Tanks on sale for $6, just like the ones from American Apparel. I was skeptical at first, but upon trying one one, found they fit like a dream. The Target copies are the exact same blend as the A.A. originals – 50% polyester, 25% cotton, 25% rayon – and, I am convinced, the exact same cut. I am still amazed. I am having to refrain from buying three in every color.

Approximately seven minutes after receiving Emma’s email, I hauled ass to Target to see what she was talking about. And, um, OMFG. Target’s Mossimo Supply Tri-Blend Tanks weren’t just the spitting image of American Apparel’s Tri-Blend Racerback Tank – they were cut a little longer, and heretofore made to be paired with leggings. Emma was right about the material too; the feel was identical. The only difference, obvs, was the price. I briefly wondered, Is This Legal?


The top two tanks are AA originals, the bottom two are Target. Can YOU tell the difference?

Thank you, Emma. Thank you, Target. And American Apparel: I hope those leggings get copied next, so I can stop getting ripped off buying yours.

When I saw the very same Rumper on the racks at Buff Ex for NINE DOLLARS, I seized it immediately. I didn’t care if I never wore the thing in public. I just needed to own it, to take it home and prance around my apartment in it. Also, I was armed with store credit, so instead of being out forty bucks, I basically spent nada.



One could, in theory, get away with the Rumper if opaque tights and a long-sleeved shirt were part of the equation. I’d be lying if I said I had the balls to wear this outfit in public, but maybe someday, I will. And if that day comes, it’ll be the best nine bucks I’ve ever spent.


A senseless justification? Probs.


But like I said. I’m addicted.

I think the length of the jacket tames the potentially sluttiness of the AA’s quite nicely. I also think I must have had to pee when I struck that second pose.

Whatevs.

I’ll concede that some American Apparel items are worth paying for. (The Nylon Tricot High-Waisted Legging is a bodyshaper, leg-slimmer, and tummy-flattener all-in-one; for anything that makes you look a solid seven lbs lighter, $42 is chump change). But a few gems can’t excuse the heinousness they’re hawking as of late. Here’s the worst of the worst.

Metallics – in small doses – are sometimes okay. Blinding, Shiny Windbreakers are not okay. This jacket overwhelms anything one could possibly wear with it – not a problem for AA models as they’re barely clothed to begin with, but def an issue for everyone else. If I was going to a costume party as a glowworm, I still wouldn’t waste $58 on this p.o.s.

I’m pretty sure my Uncle Chip has a pair of sweatpants in this print that he wore for most of 1986.  I’m not really sure what’s attractive about American Apparel’s Afrika Line, other than that pretending to care about Africa is, like, so hot right now. If these leggings were $10 and ALL the proceeds went to saving Darfur, I might buy them out of guilt. But spending $34 on something this fugly that funds ZERO charities is all kinds of crazy.

Witness Le String. Le String is a ten dollar piece of ribbon you’re supposed to tie around a shapeless dress to make it borderline cute.This multi-colored look is comprised of five Le Strings, and is therefore $50. Le Stupid!

AA’s Le Sac Dress is supposed to be appealing, i.e. worth the $38 it costs, because it can be worn nine different ways or something. Too bad all nine of those ways do nothing to make it any less Sac-like.