My lie in the clothing store

A Confession of Guilt and Reflection

Dear Customers,

My name is Sharon, and for over a year, I’ve been working in a clothing store on an upscale street in Manhattan. I never imagined I’d find myself writing this, but I need to speak my truth.

It’s hard for me to believe how blind people can be—how easily they trust, how much they want to hear something that makes them feel good, even when it’s not true. And I admit it—I’ve taken advantage of that. Not because I want to deceive, but because my income depends on it. My salary is based on the number of sales I make, so I do what I have to do.

Women walk into the store, many of them alone, seeking advice, confidence, or just a little validation. And I give it to them—but not always honestly. I’ve developed a smooth tongue, a way with words that sells.

“You look great, that’s really slimming on you!”
“That dress makes your butt look smaller.”
“Good thing I brought you a smaller size!”
“The color is perfect for you.”
“No, it doesn’t make anything show more—it actually holds you in really well.”

And many more little lies, all designed to make a sale. The truth? Sometimes the outfit doesn’t flatter, sometimes it’s completely wrong for their body type. But the words come easily now, and I’ve become so used to this way of selling that I barely think about it.

I know it’s wrong. It disgusts me sometimes when I hear myself saying these things, but I justify it to myself because I make good money. So good, in fact, that I’ve decided not to go to college. Instead of spending three years on a degree, I’m staying here, selling more, earning more.

But deep down, I know I owe you all an apology.

So, to every woman who has walked out of the store believing in my words, trusting that she looked amazing when maybe she didn’t—I ask for your forgiveness. I don’t know if I’ll change my ways. I don’t know if I’ll stop. But I do know that honesty matters, and I wish I had the courage to be more truthful.

Forgive me, girls.

—Sharon