Once upon a time, when I was a lot younger – and ironically also much thinner – than today, the first thing I did when coming home with new clothes was reach for the scissors, and cut off the tags.
Not only the price tags, but the size tags. Not because they itched or irritated, but because I didn’t want anybody else to know what size my clothes were, even those close enough to share laundry baskets with me. After that I would either burn the tags, or cut them up into miniature confetti, making sure there was no way they could be puzzled together again. Silly, I know. It’s not like the clothes or my body magically shrank with the removal and destruction of the tag, but the thought of exposing my L or XL label still mortified me.
Having lived in several different countries and continents since then, those numbers have lost some of their emotional hold on me. I’ve learned (sometimes the humiliating way) that in some brands, an XXXL dress will barely fit over one of my thighs, while in other shops on the very same day, a Medium garment can look and feel good.
Launching Mollyhopp in a global marketplace it was clear we couldn’t use the sizes Small, Medium, and Large – but which system should we use instead? We knew that the UK/Aus and US used the same numbers, but differently, and that a French 42 was quite different from a Scandinavian 42. And even within countries and sizing conventions themselves, inconsistencies were norm rather than exceptions.
So we decided to step away from them all. Mollyhopp’s sizes are tributes to women we love or admire. The first time you order, we recommend that you take your measurements with a measuring tape, and find a size that suits you. Depending on how tight or loose you want a fit, you may want to try going up or down the alphabet.
And if any of you have the same scissor habit and tag exposure phobia that I used to, hopefully a beautiful name feels less labeling than a number or letter combination.