I'm not dead yet

For those of us who are not tall, slim, and leggy, finding clothes has always been a challenge. Whether it's having to cut ten inches off of every skirt because we're short, or having to take tucks in the waist of our jeans because to get them to fit through the hips means they're too big in the waist, or finding V-necks to wear to work that don't expose cleavage, it's a never-ending battle. And when you get older it's even worse. Once you get north of the big five-oh, less is more. Little gathered sleeves are out. Little floral prints look ridiculous. It's no accident that so many of us end up in long tunics and leggings, or "float" dresses, or some other fabric nightmare.

It's no wonder I hate shopping and do all my clothes shopping exclusively through catalogs. When I recently decided it was time to get out of the tunics-and-leggings and into some decent clothes, I found that there were three catalogs where I could always rely on finding reasonably-priced clothes that fit: Woman Within, most of whose stuff is crap, but which has nice pants and jeans for larger sizes that also have a 27-inch inseam; Coldwater Creek, where occasionally something is in their clearance section that I could wear, and J. Jill, which lures in repeat shoppers with e-mails offering good discounts and real bargains in their sale and clearance section.

Coldwater Creek, J. Jill, and other stores like them, use a very simple approach: less is more. Give the customer simple lines, good quality at a good price, a wide range of sizes for all body types, and interesting, rich colors, and you'll have a loyal customer.

It seems, though, that the coveted 18 to 30 demographic isn't interested in these clothes, and today the New York Times profiles the fate of Sigrid Olsen, a higher-end designer of this type of clothing for the too-old-for-Abercrombie crowd, in the context of the struggles of the very emporia where I shop:

THE call came late at night on the first Monday of January, delivering the news that Sigrid Olsen had feared for six months. Liz Claiborne Inc., after a review of its brands, was dismantling her 24-year-old fashion business, closing its 54 stores and laying off dozens of employees, including the designer herself.

Ms. Olsen, who spends much of the year at her longtime home here, began to call her staff in New York to explain what was happening in advance of a corporate announcement that would be made the next day. But what she could not explain was what had led to the demise of a peppy brand with a passionate customer base and peak sales of about $100 million, or why the sputtering Liz Claiborne conglomerate, which had entertained offers for Ms. Olsen’s label and others, had not chosen just to sell it.

“I thought that we were one of the brands they would want to keep and nurture,” Ms. Olsen said. “That was more shocking than anything.”

It is a curious development in the fickle business of fashion that clothing labels like Ms. Olsen’s, made by and for the baby boomer generation, are among those being hardest hit by the current economic turmoil and retail retrenchment. The restructuring of Liz Claiborne early this year also resulted in upheavals at more expensive labels: Ellen Tracy, which was sold; and Dana Buchman, which was pulled from department stores and will be remade more moderately for Kohl’s. At the same time, retailers like Ann Taylor, Talbots and J. Jill have been closing hundreds of stores around the country, and the consolidation of department stores over the last decade has left many malls with more vacancies than options for the enormous demographic of women in their 40s to 60s.

What does it say when empty storefronts in malls are preferable to shops that don't cater to the kinds of teens and twentysomethings that AREN'T seen at Obama rallies? The cruel irony, for both the Juicy Couture set and for those of us buying raisin-colored twinsets at J. Jill, is that because of the collapsing economy, the teens don't have the disposable income , and while at least some boomers have managed to hold onto their jobs and have the income, there are fewer outlets for them to spend it.

This should be a cautionary tale for everyone who thinks YOUR generation will somehow be different; that you will escape getting old; that you won't start to hear comments your mother used to make coming out of your own mouth; that you'll want to wear Kate Spade your entire life. Because if there was ever a generation that never thought it would happen to us, it's mine. And look at where we are.