Dear Gap


Dear Gap,


I know it’s been a really long time, I think the last time I saw you was about four months ago. I was on 34th street and needed to use a restroom. You act like you didn’t recognize me. Yeah it’s been thirteen years since I folded your denim wall and helped Chelsea boys try on tight tees. Maybe you didn’t recognize me. I’ve grown up , gone are the braces, the shoes from Baker’s and the head to toe sale outfits I got from my home store. I use to be in love with you, swore up and down you could do no wrong in my eyes. Yeah, I looked the other way when my manager told me to follow every single person of color. You even followed my number crunching Mom around once while she was doing a surprise visit on her only child at work. Mom couldn’t believe my enthusiasm and chuckled when I told her I was styling a client- Hey I was a young fashionista in training. But then I moved on, started moving up the retail ladder. Went over to the competition, J.Crew but I would still visit you. Those sales lured me back! Cashmere for $20 bucks and denim that looked great on my full hips and thighs! Then we would rehash for the longest. I would ask you how the cross-dressing manager was doing and you would bask in pride as I told you I was finishing up school and working on real clients now. Then I didn’t hear from you, I tried to reach out and one day I saw you and you stared me dead in the eyes and act like you didn’t see me. I know that look, I believe you couldn’t keep up with me, and you had at the same time created me. I became a budget fashionista and instead, I started hanging out in H&M, Zara and Forever 21. Bags where European now, jeans and shoes from Barney's Warehouse sale or Loehmann's. Finally, you came over and let out an ugly laugh and I saw that green eyed monster come out of you. Yes, envy, envy because we both knew each other’s secrets. You saw the marginally stylish teenager who when you first met, her Mother still had absolute control over her shopping budget and therefore her taste. For me, I saw the not so nice corporate entity with very little social responsibility who had not kept up with the times. Slowly, I watched H&M, Zara, Club Monaco and J.Crew become the place for stylish peeps on a budget and you were never mentioned. I was still a cheerleader, still stopping by. I tried to tell everyone how great your denim was and I would still try to sale you to nonbelievers but you put a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. My dear friend attempted to return an item from a Baby shower and you gave her the third degree and made it seem like she stole it. When she told me, I was too ashamed but I knew she wasn’t lying. When part of my dear fabulous clique said they prefer anywhere but you, I knew it was over.


During Christmas I popped into to see you near Bloomy’s remember, and the in house security gave me an issue. I spoke to your DM and she gave me a very unsympathetic and PC half ass apology and I knew, I knew it was over. Say what you want to say about H&M, Topshop and Forever but they stay current. You laughed at me and said I was just a mallrat gone glam but no, I wanted fun fashion and stay frugal at the same time . I asked you what made you any different form those guys? You are produced offshore just like the rest of them. You pay your sales people just about the same- I know, I’ve asked. Still, you don't keep up with them style wise at all. On top of that your customer service is borderline abusive. You make returns lengthy and whenever I’ve done one, you make me feel guilty, six questions after “It didn’t work” is ridiculous, calling a manger when I say I don’t want to exchange it for anything else? It’s not Gap, it’s Gestapo. I do a return at H&M no questions asked, but you make me feel like I should be wearing the Scarlet letter R around my neck. Still, I tried to see the good in you; it’s the diplomat in me. So last week, I saw you in one if your larger stores. Tried to ask a sales associate about sizing and he told me whatever is out is out. It didn’t answer my question of whether a 27 was a size 4 but hey, it gets worse. I wanted to try on a dress and walked over to the fitting room and was told it was closed so I put the dress on the rack and walked away. Your three days of eight hours training associate told me to put it back where I got it from. I blew her a kiss, I try to see the good in everything but, I am no sucker for punishment. So there, now, you know why I don't want to speak. Hubris is your downfall. I wished it wouldn’t have to come to this but you pushed me away. So long, so long my friend!