This is a guest post by TampaBayScene’s Bianca Lopez.
If you would have told me about Lilly Pulitzer for Target just a short year ago, I would have responded with a quizzical brow. No, I don’t see my reaction as being blasphemous. No, I wouldn’t have pictured Lilly herself rolling in her perfectly manicured grave. It’s because I simply had no idea who she even was.
Before entering college, the name Pulitzer only rang a bell because of its link to award-winning journalism. Since entering the world of higher education and joining a sorority, though, I’ve been reacquainted with the name in a different way. As everybody knows — as it is an unspoken rule of initiation — every sorority girl must love her Lilly.
Via: Betches Love This
So it began: the planners, the dresses and the price tags that made me die a little on the inside. Every other print I had ever seen seemed to pale in comparison to this particular brand of preppy resort wear. Not long after the inevitable obsession began, I found out about Lilly for Target. It seemed brilliant to me, but apparently not to many “real” Lilly diehards. They thought the brand had sold out. The idea of the “lower classes” getting their hands on Lilly was too much to bear.
Oh, the humanity.
I carefully studied the lookbook online. Calculating prices. Imagining scenarios for each outfit, home good and accessory. The day was finally here. My friend and I texted each other through our trials and tribulations on the website. When would it load? Were other people already buying items? Why was this taking so long? 
I gave up on online shopping for the night and fell asleep with the plan to go to the store to shop in person. However, upon arriving at the store just ten minutes after its opening, everything was gone, save for a single jumpsuit two sizes too large for me and a candle votive. It was a Black Friday-esque frenzy, and I was slightly terrified. Even those few leftover items were snatched up within seconds of me even glancing at them.
I tried another Target location nearby and managed to snag a pair of shorts by waiting outside of the fitting rooms for girls to decide what they did and didn’t need. And that was that. Lilly for Target was over, and I hadn’t even eaten breakfast.
Here’s the thing: This isn’t just about one sad sorority girl that didn’t get the dress and mug set she wanted. There’s so much more to Lilly for Target. After watching cart after cart roll by me stocked to the brim with multiples of the same item, I knew that some shoppers were actually scalpers. My fears were confirmed when I checked eBay and saw outrageous markups — my favorite dress, originally $38, is going for around $200.
The purpose of Lilly for Target was to make a brand that was once exclusive to the upper/upper-middle classes accessible to women of all backgrounds, not to tease them with dreams of low prices only to rip them away and sell them to the highest bidder.
Via: Inquisitr
But that’s not all. This collaboration between a high-end retailer like Lilly Pulitzer and an affordable mass distributor like Target allowed for more than I had previously considered. The reason I’m really writing this is because of a friend of mine had recently posted on a Facebook forum page for women to buy and sell gently used Lilly clothing and accessories. In the post, she described her frustration with how quickly this event came and went, explaining that her mother never got to share the experience that she did.
You see, Lilly Pulitzer’s sizes stop at size 16, but Lilly for Target offered an extended range of plus sizes. This collaboration was meant to open the doors to Lilly, not just in a silly girly way, but in an equalizing way. This collaboration almost made a difference for fans who could not previously afford or wear the clothing they wanted, through which to express themselves.
Unfortunately, it fell short.
Featured image courtesy of: Jezebel
