Arms and the woman

By Isabel Lloyd

"Don’t you have anything with sleeves on?" On a warm evening in early summer, on the ground floor of a large department store in central London, a young woman was pleading with one of the assistants in the All Saints concession. After an abrupt improvement in the weather the place was humming with post-work workers, all on the same sudden mission to find something to wear now the sun had finally come out. At the entrance to the changing rooms, the queue of women waiting for free cubicles snaked round piles of discards, a crumpled cornucopia of dresses in garden-party pinks and acid yellows, posh-utility separates in grey chiffon and navy silk, drapey tops and drainpipe jeans. The assistants were doing their best, but their smiles were fraying. And despite their help and the choice on offer, could this poor girl—not model-skinny, not fat, just average size with average hang-ups about her body—find an attractive top that wouldn’t be too hot but covered the tops of her arms? Could she heck.

The style survey we ran in the March/April issue of Intelligent Life shows she isn’t alone. We asked 40 women of different ages, backgrounds, sizes and nationalities what they really felt about fashion. Where were the holes in modern clothes? Their answers were clear. They wanted more clothes that were well made and that would last, not flop after a few washes, drop their buttons or come apart at the seams. They wanted brands that didn’t constantly churn their stock and shift their styles, but that had a consistent identity they could rely on season after season. They wanted clothes that showed some regard for the well-being of the planet and for the people employed to make them. And they wanted more sleeves. Lots more sleeves. Men might think it’s the size of our bums that women are obsessed by, but what really makes us wince when we look in the mirror is that faint wobble of blancmange just south of the triceps.