The Devil Wears Gap Jeans: The Hidden Truth Of The Abusive Fashion Industry
I haven’t told this story publicly, but I feel safe doing so here, to all of you.
In my early career as a fashion designer, I had the honor of working at this high luxury fashion company whose business was making billions.
I was on top of the world, swimming in the luxury of external validation.
I was 26, just designed a bag that had a huge marketing campaign in Paris, and unconsciously attached my self-worth to the results of reputation, glamour, and constructed pieces of leather.
Then our management shifted, the VP was fired, and in came a new one whose mission was to deteriorate my worth.
She picked on me out of everyone in our entire handbag department.
She stripped me of my designer roles for the next 6 months until she laid me off.
I was cleaning closets, filing binders, sorting out Pantone chips, and not allowed in any design meetings. #cinderellavibes
At one point, I walked into a design meeting, and she turned to me and said, "No assistants allowed."
This was in an entire room of merchandisers, product developers, and other designers who said NOTHING.
They wore silence and complicity on their sleeves and fed the narrative that I didn’t matter, I wasn’t worthy, and I didn’t belong.
When people first learn about me working in fashion, they immediately reference the Devil Wears Prada...I usually humor their naivety, but deep down, I wanted to scream the truth.
The Devil doesn’t wear Prada...the devil wears Gap jeans.
The Devil consumed an unhealthy amount of chicken nuggets.
The Devil looked like any one of us because this woman’s actions showed her inability to love herself.
She was a facade hiding a fragile ego, fighting like hell to make her feel enough by putting others down.
She made me realize hurt people do not hurt people because we’ve all been hurt.
It's the people who refuse to start healing who hurt people.
Projection at its worst was her everyday mantra.
The beginning of my writing journey was about this woman and how she made me feel invisible, un-belonging, and worthless.
I saw how she treated me had nothing to do with me but everything to do with her inability to love herself.
Self-love is brave, and she was a coward.
I’m proud to say I’ve healed the wound she inflicted on me through writing and cultivating the courage to publish several personal essays condemning the abuse of female leaders in the fashion industry.
Writing our stories is advocacy.
Language is powerful to make others feel less alone in their experiences.
We’re allowed to call out our experiences of injustice because, as Havey Milk said, "Hope is never silent."
To share our stories will magnetize people to come together and shift the culture from a place of ego to a place of compassion.
Your story can shift our culture.
Your story can empower others.
Your story is revolutionary.
Sincerely,
Mary
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