Today, on the official day of laundry, I made the profound discovery that nearly all of my tops were manufactured by your fine company. This revelation occurred when I reached a glorious laundry triumph. You see, at this very moment everything I own is clean! Hallelujah!

Now I stare at the nicely folded pile and ask myself not just how I accumulated such a collection but WHY? First, I am stumped because I know that a sensible girl only needs so many solid colored shirts and tank tops. And I believe I exceeded that number a few summers ago. Second, I must face the facts: these shirts are boring. Really, they are one color, made of the same material, and look identical on me.

Maybe a bit of history with your company will help fill in the gaps. As you look at my customer record, you’ll see that my first ever Gap, Inc. purchase of this kind was at age 14. Khaki ribbed spaghetti strapped tank top. Size medium. On sale. Woodland Hills Mall, Tulsa, OK. Reason: Frontier City Amusement Park trip with church youth group. (Yes, scandalous to wear such a shirt on a church outing, but as a pastor’s daughter I had to push the Baptist boundaries of acceptable fashion.) Worn with olive green shorts from Old Navy. What a proud day!

My record will also show that I was a Gap, Inc. sales associate from July 2001-August 2002. GapKids mostly. Manager: Mike something. This is when you really sucked me in. 30% off of everything! Who could resist? Discounts make you do crazy things. You sat by and watched me buy ridiculous merchandise just because it was cheaper! I almost bought Gap leather pants. Leather Pants!

But I always came back to the basic tee and tank top. Rainbows of colors folded neatly on the center tables with classic navy signage, SALE. They are always on sale. Even if they’re not marked down, they’re still 2 for $15 or something that compels me to buy them again and again and again!

Maybe it’s something special about the name, the Gap or Old Navy logo on every tag (or shirt as you’ve followed the tagless trend).
Maybe it’s because you’re so familiar and I can breeze by the cheery greeter without stopping to ask where the fleece pullovers are.
Maybe it’s subliminal messages in the irritating music you play.

Or maybe I just can’t let go. Where is that khaki spaghetti strapped tank top, now 10 years old? In the picture squished under 2 other khaki tank tops. I just wore it last week.

Thanks Gap, Inc. It’s a boring fashion life I lead, but someone has to do it.

Loyally,
Amber