Dear Clothing Manufacturers,
I wanted to write a letter to you. To be honest, there are several letters that I wanted to write to you. One entitled Some Of Us Are Over A Size Six, You Know, and another one entitled For The Love Of God, Can We Have Some Consistency In Sizing, You Bastards. But those can wait, because tonight’s missive is, I feel, more critically important to get to you. You see, tonight I’d like to talk to you about the following:
What The Fuck Is With Those Stupid Hanging Loops?
Because those hanging loops in clothes are, quite frankly, starting to get right on my tits. Often literally. You know the ones I mean. Those stupid bloody loops of ribbon which are, I believe, sewn into items of clothing in order for one to be able to hang one’s item of clothing securely onto a coat hanger.
Which, I suppose in theory, makes sense. I can see why you might think that some people might want to hang up their clothes using tiny fiddly loops of ribbon onto a coat hanger.
EXCEPT THAT NO SANE PERSON ACTUALLY DOES THAT. On two levels. Firstly, I know very, very few people who actually hang their clothes on coat hangers. Particularly tops. If they’re anything like me, they ‘hang’ their clothes horizontally. Lying flat on the floor in the bottom of their wardrobe. Or chest of drawers. Or ‘chair in the corner of the room for clothes that have been worn once and therefore cannot possibly go back into the cupboard’ (that’s probably a whole different post in itself). Or simply the middle of their bedroom floor.
And secondly… even if we do assume that there are some people out there who aren’t complete and utter slovens and actually like to hang their tops up once in a while… THEN THAT IS WHAT SLEEVES ARE FOR! Or straps, or whatever other arm covering device one’s top has incorporated into it. THAT IS THE WHOLE BLOODY POINT OF SLEEVES!
(Please don’t try and base your entire argument for hanging loops around strapless tops. Anyone who hangs a strapless top on a coat hanger probably needs to take a long hard look at their life.)
And so… and so… and so… if we did agree, as a nation, to get rid of hanging loops once and for all… just think how amazing our lives could be. No more terrifying moments in changing rooms when you get your arm trapped in the hanging loop and fear you might have to chew off your own limb like that man in that film up a mountain in order to get free. No more pointless, pointless hours spent trying to get hanging loops to stay on a coat hanger only for the bastards to slide straight back off again, AAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHH. And no more socially awkward interactions when you’re trying to impress someone in a work or dating context, only for them to point out “Oh, did you know you’ve got…” – at which point they will gesture in a horribly embarrassed manner to your chest area and your incredibly brief moment of relief that your nipple is not hanging out will be very swiftly followed by a sensation of abject fury at that stupid bloody hanging loop absolutely ruining your fucking life yet again.
Plus – and this is where I know I’m going to get your attention – without those ridiculous hanging loops, think of all the money you could save! Your profits will go through the roof. Of which I will request only the tiniest percentage (let’s say 48%… I’m not an unreasonable woman) in return for bringing this – frankly genius – idea to your attention.
In the meantime, I shall continue to endeavour to remember to cut my hanging loops out of my clothes. And walk around with tiny holes in the shoulders of all of my tops as a result, because I am nothing if not inept when wielding a pair of scissors.