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January
10, 2003
Chicago Reader:
Our
Town
Lots
to Love
Stephanie
Sack is big, stylish, and single-minded. "I just want clothes," she says.
"Clothes fat chicks can wear. I can't wear dental floss around my titties
and call it fashion."
Sack knows
from personal experience that for women size 12 and up, finding fashionable
clothes that fit--really fit--usually means either another monotonous
trip to Lane Bryant or three hours combing the racks at a department store.
Her Bucktown plus-size boutique Vive la Femme
(open seven days a week at 2115 N. Damen)
offers an alternative, and while her customer base is still developing,
she's drawing some very loyal shoppers.
On a recent
Saturday afternoon women wandered among the racks like dazed pilgrims
in the Holy Land. "I just want something
to cover my gut," one of them told Sack. It's a common refrain here, but
not a tolerated one.
"We don't
cover anything at this store, my darling. We accentuate," Sack said firmly.
"Will you wear leopard?"
"Well,
I don't have any," the shopper replied, but in ten minutes she was gaping
at herself in the mirror. In the size-18 leopard-print top, with its deep
neckline and flared, fluttery sleeves, she looked regal. But there was
more.
"Hold on.
I'm going to bust out a little present for you from the back," Sack said.
She came back with a pair of boot-cut jeans, faded through the thighs
and embroidered down the legs with brown and gold swirls. They wrapped
the young woman's curves in smooth dark denim, showing off her butt and
thighs and belly.
"See?" said
Sack. "You got a little leopard in your life. Don't you feel better?"
"Oh,
I do," said the customer.
Sack has
no formal fashion experience--"I can't draw for crap," she says. Before
opening the store eight months ago, she was the display ad manager at
NewCity. But she knows her
wares intimately. Her own Saturday ensemble--a clingy black skirt and
V neck trimmed with fake fur--was made up of pieces she was considering
carrying in the store.
She firmly
believes that "by the time you're five-ten and a size 20, you need to
get in a real good mood about it. I refuse--I refuse--as a consumer and
as a businessperson to have my style dictated by people who don't know
what the hell they're doing. Clothes should be a pleasure. So why wear
what you don't want to wear?"
She pulled out a burgundy velvet top with a plunging neckline. "This is
what I call a ta-ta
shirt, because you need to have a couple of ta-tas
and you need a good push-up bra. A lot of girls come in and they'll pull
at it--" she plucked the fabric at the sides of the bustline.
"And I'm like, what, if you cover it up it goes away? No, come on. A lot
of girls think that if they cover their eyes no one can see them. But
the fact is, if your ass is the size of a Mack
truck, it might as well be a really hot, curvaceous, va-va-voom
Mack truck."
Two slender
women came in, and Sack called to them from across the store, "This is
a big chicks' store, ladies." "Ohh!" they
said, disappointed. "But your stuff is so cute in the window!" "Of course
it is," Sack said. "Big chicks like cute stuff too!"
One of her
prettiest pieces is a knee-length dress with a lace overlay, dance-hall-girl
red and cut on the bias. It's from Anna Scholz,
the London
plus-size designer whose adventurous, exquisitely made line inspired Sack
to open the store when she saw it in the now defunct magazine Mode. "I
knew that if nothing else, I could promote those clothes," she says. "I
don't want to sound twee, but I just got them."
Vive la Femme's other signature line is SizeAppeal,
a juniors collection with lots of silky, sheer
fabrics and empire waists.
Nothing
in the store could be worn to, say, a job interview. "These clothes are
to go out in, to show off in," Sack says. "If you don't feel like going
out the minute you get out of the dressing room, it's a no go."
Judging
by the mood in the dressing room, there were going to be some very happy
women out on the town this particular Saturday evening. "Are we liberating
the skirt?" Sack asked the short woman examining her hips in the mirror.
She was wearing a long, fitted black corduroy piece with a stylish little
flare at the bottom, and yes, she'd decided to buy it. She giggled and
said, "I feel a little funky!"
Sack was
pleased, but not surprised. "Hell yeah!" she said. "Hell
yeah! See how easy that was?"
Anne Ford
is a full-time freelance writer in Chicago.
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