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Brandy Melville’s now-notorious “one size fits most” slogan has become the epitome of a brand that not only promotes one bodily aesthetic, but actively enforces it as the golden standard.

A universal size is a misleading lie. It’s not about inclusivity or diversity — it’s about fitting into a specific, narrow mold of what’s considered fashionable and, by extension, desirable.

The reality is that Brandy’s lack of a size range primarily fits a very specific body type: slim, small-framed and almost exclusively white. This reinforces a negative, boxed-in beauty standard that perpetuates the idea that if you don’t fit this mold, you’re inferior.

Advertising a singular size is harmful because it suggests that to be worthy of attention, popularity or even respect, you must physically conform to a specific aesthetic. This size is by no means universal.

In a college setting, one’s body image is already a deeply personal and often volatile subject, making Brandy and its sub-brand John Galt’s practices feel particularly isolating. Campus is an environment where comparison runs rampant. When you’re surrounded by peers who all seem to fit the same mold, whether that be physical, social or aesthetic, it’s hard not to feel that urge to fit in.

Not giving into the attraction toward Brandy is a step past constant comparison battles. You’d be embracing a wider range of body types and clothing choices, setting an example for others. It’s a statement in favor of individuality and body positivity, especially in a campus environment where the standard of beauty seems unreasonably slim-minded.

The brand’s success was formed around the idyllic Southern California beach culture, with its first store bordering UCLA’s campus. The deliberately effortless, trendy vibe, paired with an exclusive marketing strategy, positioned the brand’s image as an aspirational goal.

But it isn’t just about the clothes; it’s about becoming the cool girl. If you wear Brandy, you’re in. If you don’t, you’re not. Its clothes are a dangerous marker of social status, implying that material worth is linked to a single brand and, troublingly, that Brandy idolizes one selective image of young beauty.

The brand also perpetuates an intangible barrier by employing mainly young, thin,white workers who visually fit the mold of what Brandy deems acceptable.

Lily Zuckerman | Design Editor

Forget selling clothes — it’s about crafting a version of women, a prototype, reducing everyone else to feel like they don’t measure up. These employees are a symbol of the unattainable, and they reinforce the brand’s ideal of a specific type of person.

Brandy instills in girls and young women the incredibly damaging lesson that their value is defined by what they wear, and more specifically, by its own sizing and how its clothes fit their bodies.

Fast fashion brands also fuel significant environmental issues, and Brandy is no exception. In documentaries examining the industry, we often see massive hauls of brand-new clothes flooding young girls’ closets, only for these items to be discarded after one use.

The conversation around Brandy isn’t solely about aesthetics, it also rests on the company’s ethics.

In places like Kantamanto, Ghana, discarded clothes arrive in bulk and residents practice sustainability by resizing and reusing the garments that were originally destined for the landfill.

This juxtaposition between the American consumer’s instant gratification and the sustainable practices in places like Kantamanto is a stark reminder that fast fashion isn’t just an environmental issue, but a moral one as well. While the West is feeding into the endless cycle of consumption, other parts of the world are stuck dealing with the consequences of our overindulgence.

Brandy is an agent of comparison, not only through its marketing but through its ethos. Its blanket sizing slogan projects a facade of inclusivity.

In reality, the brand’s presence excludes those who don’t fit its idealized frame. Its success isn’t based on making anyone feel like they belong — it’s about making people feel like they need to change in order to fit in.

Rejecting Brandy means denouncing the damaging, toxic culture it fosters. Try finding your own style that feels good. Don’t make alterations to fit others’ standards. Embracing diverse body types across our generation and supporting clothing that celebrates uniqueness over conformity should both be central to Generation Z’s approach to style in 2025.

In doing so, we challenge a beauty standard that’s both unrealistic and harmful, ultimately taking one small step toward a more inclusive and sustainable fashion culture.

Autumn Clarke is a freshman majoring in broadcast and digital journalism. She can be reached at auclarke@syr.edu.

Published on January 27, 2025 at 9:55 pm