Since Mike Jeffries, the washed-up Prom King of a CEO at Abercrombie & Fitch, released a statement that the company doesn't want anyone who would even go near a 200 pound breadbox wearing their clothing, they've received quite the plus-sized backlash. But their exclusory sales methods didn't just crop up all of a sudden. The company was founded back in 1892, on the same big boned-hating values.
Much like Jeffries, Abercrombie & Fitch didn't live up to traditional standards of beauty. Self-hating entrepreneurs, they encouraged their staff to ask overweight customers if they were looking for "a rugged mountaineering bib, or what."
Then, one day, Mr. Fitch woke up from a spaghetti coma with a brilliant idea! The store would stop pumping french fry grease through the vents, and start pumping douchey, bro-ish cologne.
They started blasting Beethoven so loud, customers could feel it rippling through their visible rib cages. They also decided to turn off the lights, so you couldn't tell if you were buying a mini-skirt with cargo pockets or a worn-out sweatshirt referencing the awesomeness of weekends.
The female employees were measured daily, to make certain they weren't growing cankles.
One day, Grover Cleveland stopped by, looking for something simple to wear to his Inauguration. He knew he looked good in earth tones, and wanted something with an elastic waistband so he could eat whatever he pleased at the Ball. The model at the entrance hissed and laughed, and pointed him down the road to Ye Olde Lane Bryant's.
When The Depression hit, the customer became thinner and thinner, thus inspiring the size 00 and eventually the destitute, and therefore shirtless, male model. Though Abercrombie & Fitch itself has expanded over the years, the mindset has obviuosly not. And so it goes, that the weight of the CEO's words sink his needlessly embroidered yacht.