They’re called “ward-robers”, and what they do is stretch their clothing allowances by borrowing those items they’ll only need for an separated occasion. Things that, even if the occasion weren’t so separated, you wouldn’t want to show up wearing if you’d already worn the same item at some previous occasion. Items like a-line party dresses. But ward-robers don’t do what the rest of us have inked for as long as there have been friends and sisters within one standard deviation of our own own size. I. e., borrow those items. These days, borrowing from friends and family is, apparently, passé. After all, what you get that a-way is more likely to are the wrong color. Or last year’s model. Or a bit off in size. Or already been worn for a special occasion. So ward-robers take themselves shopping. And once they find an item they like, they actually buy it. They then get to use it. My oh my, the benefits of ownership!
And then, once Cinderella returns from the ball, the ball gown does a evaporating act. But the ward-rober isn’t stuck sitting around in rags.
No, the cagey ward-rober just returns the “gently worn” item and gets her money back.
This is a big problem: retailers estimate that about 3 percent of their returns involve some type of fraud. Like returning something that you’ve already informed.
As with so many other things these days, the problem of:
…wardrobing has been made worse by social media. Call it the Instagram effect. “We love our selfies, ” [Susan Scafidi, a Fordham University law professor who specializes in fashion] says. “More items become single-wear, in effect, because everybody has seen you in it. ” (Source: Business Week. )#)
It’s a bit difficult for someone who dressed in a green jumper and white blouse every day for twelve years to get too excited about everybody having seen her in something, but there you have it.