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J.Crew, Why Did You Jilt Me?

Breaking up is hard to do, but when your favorite brand doesn't acknowledge your existence, maybe it's time, says Janet Siroto.

Today I wore a J.Crew t-shirt and J.Crew jeans. The day before, a J.Crew striped top and a different pair of J.Crew jeans. And the day before, a J.Crew flowered blouse and my favorite pair of J.Crew black pants, which is saying a lot because I owe about 10 pairs.

I guess J.Crew thinks I don’t exist. To them, my born-in-the-60s squad is invisible, not worth recognizing, not worth catering to.

What can I say? When something works for me, I’m loyal, like my slavish devotion to Trader Joe’s. J.Crew and I go way back, I mean waaaaay back. I recall in about 1990, as a young working gal, I’d spend time with coworkers poring over the J.Crew catalog, reading aloud the color names to each other, marveling at the copywriters’ creativity: Stone, Dusk, Palomino, Grape, and so forth. I ordered tops and bottoms and skirts and jackets—and continued to do so for decades. I could tell you about my favorite J.Crew sweater with the llama on it; the best bathing suit I got from them, with the fruit-slice print; and the plaid shirt I bought my husband that one of my sons now wears.

But I’m not going to, because J.Crew apparently doesn’t want anything to do with my sorry 50-something-year-old self.

The Catalog Cometh

The fall catalog arrived a day or two ago, and I sat down with it on Saturday morning with coffee for a good thumb-through. In the past, I remember J.Crew had worked so hard to embrace diversity; you could almost feel the sweat through the pages. Different races, different body types (somewhat), and models of all ages. I recall a gorgeous 60-something model of theirs a few years ago.

Of the “real people” depicted in the catalog, I dare you to find anyone approaching midlife.

But this September was different. The catalog theme was #MeetMyCrew (gotta have a hashtag, right?) and the introduction was “This season, we’re inspired by the power of the group. Whether they’re saving oceans, empowering young men and women, rescuing animals, or making space for creativity, they remind us of the simple, optimistic principle that as unique individuals, we’re also better together.”

Lovely sentiment, but guess what? Of the “real people” depicted in the catalog, I dare you to find anyone approaching midlife. There’s one mustachioed man who might be over 40, hidden at the edges of one photo of J.Crew staffers. There’s a woman who might, just maybe, be perimenopausal. But otherwise, the featured “crews”—the people who are “making noise, making moves, making us smile and making the world a lot more awesome”—all look to be my kids’ ages.

I guess J.Crew thinks I don’t exist. To them, my born-in-the-60s squad is invisible, not worth recognizing, not worth catering to.

Well, if J.Crew is essentially saying none of us at midlife deserve to be saluted or shown in their clothes, maybe I need to stop showing my face in their clothes, too.

How do you feel about brands that don’t show our Tribe in their images? Sound off in comments.

By Janet Siroto

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