When we first heard of the American Apparel Diet, we figured it had something to do with slimming down to fit into all those garish, form-fitting onesies they insist on selling. Then we found out it was just a bunch of rich ladies who’d vowed not to go shopping for a year, and were somewhat relieved for the human condition (and our starch habit). But what in the world made a group of cosmo-guzzling, brand-worshipping, American consumeristas cut up their platinum Visas? We went to the group’s website for answers.
"Buying a new something-or-other is as natural as a dark chocolate pick-me-up," group leader
Carrie Bradshaw Sally Bjornsen writes. "We all have our reasons for embarking on this project but it all gets down to this…who are we without something hip and new in our closets? We shall see."
Are you sure you want to go there, Sally? Without the affirming documentation of existence that comes in the form of a credit card bill each month, how will you even know you’re still alive? A: Your old pal, alcoholism. "I have attempted to give up my wine habit," one dieter told Time. "I think I made it 8 days, and then back to ‘the mommy juice’ as I so affectionately call my evening choice of drink…This clothes thing is a lot easier."
There is also the sneaking suspicion this is just a viral marketing thing of some sort, using anti-consumerism to reinforce consumerism in a doublespeak-y, "absence makes the heart grow spendier" type way. In the Time interview, the ladies sing the praises of J. Crew, The Gap (though their jeans were too skinny), Ann Taylor (skinny jeans for fat people!) and Bluefly.com. And one lady had this to say about Missoni:
"When I cheated the first time, it was at a private consignment sale, and there was a Missoni turtleneck. I can’t explain it, but I just had to have it and I knew I could wear it for the rest of my life if I took good care of it. So perfect, so well made, such a great price. So I cheated."
Curiously absent from discussion of the Great American Apparel Diet: American Apparel itself. It’s time for Dov Charney and his crack team of half-naked waifs to get to the bottom of this.