An Open Letter to Banana Republic

Dear BR,

I love you. I do. Your website is not only bookmarked in my Explorer, it's the first thing that comes up when I type in "b" in the search bar. I long ago dropped the "Republic" and now affectionately refer to you as "Banana," as if we were old friends. And we are, we are old friends--I still have shirts from you that saw me through more than one frat party (remember that time I put a glowstick in my bra and pulled on the soft black turtleneck sweater over it? everyone couldn't stop staring at my chest. and i did that on PURPOSE. i thought it was FUNNY. man, was i DRUNK). Everything I'm wearing right now is from Banana, in fact, except my shoes.

The thing is, though, old pal, that the reason that I'm able to dress in head-to-toe Banana is because my mother bought me this sweater, the jeans were on sale, and I got the necklace at the outlet. Like many, many twenty-somethings in the DC Metro area who pay $20K a year in rent and $8 a bag for grapes at the grocery store, I cannot just stroll into your retail store and plunk down $100 for a sweater. It's not in my nature and it's not in my budget, and I hate you for this. You are overpriced, and you are a tease, and you have forgotten your roots.

You used to be affordable and friendly. You used to be no better than your preppy-basics relative Gap. Remember that? Don't lie. I know it's almost as embarrassing as my glowstick bra, but it's part of your past and there are those of us who remember where you came from, before you got a couple mentions in Vogue and InStyle and got all overpriced and wannabe-couture.

I have reached my limit of frustration with you. I am tired of searching your sale page and finding that I can't even afford your half-price leftovers. Yesterday I fell in love with a wool knit slouchy handbag on the sale page. I love that bag. I want to marry it. I want to put my whole life in it and carry it around everywhere I go, even in the summer, even to the gym; I want to still have that bag when I'm eighty and I need it to carry around my spare teeth and my calcium pills. But this bag is sale priced at $120 and OH MY GOD that's reduced from $278. Almost THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS for a bag that isn't even leather. It is KNIT. What is woven into this bag--antioxidants? The pope's hair? Does it rub your back when you are tired? Does it block telemarketers? I do not understand. How can a purse cost three hundred dollars from a store that used to have a fake Cuban guy in a straw hat greeting shoppers and handing out coupons at the door?

I cheat on you with unabashed, shameless abandon now. Most of my clothes come from Old Navy or H&M. But I miss you, Banana. I want you to come back to me. If you started making clothes I could afford again, I'd even put a glowstick in my bra. Just for you.

Kisses and couture,
Kate