Fat Guy Fashion 101
Most of our size inclusivity discussions are focused on women, but it's not great out there for the plus-sized men either.
For as long as I remember I’ve been overweight. There are photos of me as a skinny toddler, but I have no memory of this, the same way I don’t remember being blonde. While my weight has fluctuated wildly over the years, once I crossed that line into being overweight, I pretty much stayed there.
So I’ve always had a skewed view of fashion, both in what I wear and what I avoid. I know many of the biggest trends, like skinny jeans, would look horrendous on me. Sometimes this is fine, and it doesn’t bother me. But other times it’s a bummer, like when I tried to find a cool-ass leather jacket as a young punk and the only ones in my size were bombers designed for middle age dads.
It’s always a struggle to find fashionable clothes as a bigger guy, and I think it’s an issue that people rarely consider. There have been great strides in fat empowerment in recent years, which is far overdue. Naturally, the movement has been more focused on women given the history of undue societal pressure placed on being thin. The level of stigma placed on overweight women is exponentially greater than what men like me face, but that being said, I think that imbalance has blinded a lot of people to the difficulties of trying to look good as a fat man. There’s more to it than just needing bigger sizes and being unable to find them. Years of trying to shop while chubby broke down my psyche and altered my self-image, especially during those hormone-driven teenage years.
In this recurring column, I’m going to step way out of my comfort zone and figure out how to be a fashionable fat guy. Sometimes I’ll be showcasing clothes I love, and other times lamenting the struggle. But before getting to any of that fun stuff I wanted to pull back the curtain and go over the ways my size has influenced my style over the years.
Our journey begins in one of the most unfortunately named locations of the 1980s department store…
The Husky Section
I’m convinced that the only true purpose of the husky section was to shame the kids who have to shop there. Despite the cuteness of the noble sled dog, Husky is one of the English language’s ugliest words to hear. Say it out loud. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, right?
I dreaded when my mom would take me to JCPenney or frickin’ Mervyn’s to go clothes shopping. Not because I hated clothes shopping, but because I knew at some point I wouldn’t be able to squeeze into anything in the kids section and would be forced to turn to the H. If a kid from school saw me in the husky section that would be the end of what little social life I had been able to cobble together at 10. I’d get called Husky Charlie or Chuck Husky. There’s no chance in hell I’d ever live that down.
Once we were in the husky section I did everything within my ability to get out of there in a hurry. “Does this shirt fit? Yeah? I don’t care what’s on it, let’s get outta here.”
It’s so fucked up that this terminology was commonplace, and I believe it goes a long way toward explaining the body image issues rooted in my brain.
I Always Try to Avoid the Fat Guy Tropes
To fit in better I subconsciously established a set of rules based on the common stereotypes. Don’t wear shorts in the winter. Avoid Hawaiian shirts. Never, ever wear the matching athletic suit that is tight enough to show that you are as far from athletic as possible. Be super careful to avoid having a short tie because your neck is too damn big.
Accessories Rule
One of the main struggles of the plus-sized gentleman is that most of the cool clothes you want to wear simply won’t be available in your size. And when they are, they will be in extremely limited quantities. This is where accessories come in. For me this means hats. So many hats. There may not be any band shirts in my size but I can easily fit into that beanie. This led to some really questionable choices, like when I desperately wanted a bowler. The only logical explanation I can imagine is that I had never actually seen myself wearing a bowler.
But it has also led to some of my all-time favorite articles of clothing. The Prime Skateboards hat with a chopped-up cartoon pig. My Seattle Rainiers hat. The Russian winter hat I have that I only break out every couple of years thanks to global warming.
I don’t think I realized why I was so into hats until recently. It’s because whenever I see a hat I want, I know I can find it in my size and it will look good. None of my various body insecurities get in the way.
Everything Costs More
Whether you’re lucky enough to find something that fits in a standard store or you’re forced to shop at DXL one thing remains constant — you’re going to be paying more than a thin person does. And I’m not talking about just an extra buck or two on a T-shirt if it’s a larger size. When shopping in a big and tall store everything seems to be about 30% more expensive than it would in a smaller size. A $40 pair of khakis is $55. A $50 dress shirt is $70. The companies know that a fat man’s choices are limited — what are they going to do when other stores don’t carry their size — so they gouge away as much as they possibly can.
When You Find Something That Works, Stick With It
I have worn the exact same pants for the last 20 years. Not the same pair, mind you, but the same two styles of corduroy pants. They fit well and look good on me, and at the end of the day, that’s all I’m really going for here. If LL Bean goes out of business I may have to stop wearing pants completely.
Clothes That Fit Don’t Seem to Fit
For pretty much all of my life I’ve been wearing clothes that don’t fit. My greatest fear (and clear sign of my shitty body image issues) is that I’m going to be out in public, having a nice time, blissfully unaware of the large, fleshy bit of flank hanging out for all to see. I’ve spent more than a few hours of my life in front of the mirror simulating how I’ll look holding the rail on the subway to make sure nothing is poking out.
I end up wearing clothes that are too big for me, which is a delightful piece of irony. I can’t find clothes that fit so I move go to the big and tall section where I buy clothes that also don’t fit, but because they are too big for me. When I see clothes that hide the Peanut M&M-esque shape of my body I pounce on them. But this doesn’t look good either. It looks like I’m wearing some sort of fashionable tarp, which is most definitely an oxymoron.
When I buy a shirt that fits the way it’s supposed to I’m convinced it’s too small. I’ll pull at it and try to stretch it out, which, when successful, leads to a bad look too. Deprogramming my brain to stop doing this is a work in progress. I lost a little bit of weight earlier in the year and it gave me the ounce of confidence I needed to wear some things I normally wouldn’t. These are clothes that fit... I just convinced myself they didn’t. It’s really stupid and frustrating to have your brain work like this, and even more frustrating when I know my self-deprecating brain is wrong, but it’s also incredibly hard to unlearn.
This is how I’ve always looked at fashion as a fat guy. And now it’s time to get rid of all the negative baggage and approach things in a new way. I hope you’ll join me on the ride.
The hats are good, but I am OBSESSED with that "Mama Tried" pillow on the couch.
We could always use MORE Charlie!!