Growing up, my mom and a few of her friends shopped at a place on my hometown’s main and only drag called Added Dimensions. You get it, right? My mom was and is fit and physically active, and I always only thought of her as perfectly mom-sized, but these ladies weren’t wearing 6s or 8s, and neither was the gal who ran the shop.

Looking back on it, it seems fairly remarkable that in a town of about 10,000, in the late ‘80s, there was a small, mom-and-pop style retail outlet addressing this aspect of fashion and apparel. Or rather, it seems fairly remarkable that now, in a city of about 620,000 — in an era of weight-obsession and Biggest Losers — there isn’t.

At least not one that I know of.

See, here’s what happened: Not long ago, a reader wrote in saying that she likes reading about small businesses and is totally down with spending her dollars with independent shopkeepers, but she’s having just one problem: She can’t find any who are offering what she likes in the size she needs. She told me she’s a 16/18 at 5’9" and then she preempted what she was guessing would be your response (in her words, "put down the fork and get off our asses so we can fit into the 10") by saying "being too heavy isn’t healthy, but a whole bunch of us want to look the best we can during the struggle."

The query comes at an interesting time. Designers and buyers are increasingly aware that larger men and women do want to look good — stylish, modern, and on-trend. (Pardon the fifth grade vocabulary, but, Duh.)

Marc Jacobs and reps from his company have recently been talking up a new line that will cater to the size-14-and-over crowd, a decision that was apparently very closely linked to Twitter and Facebook comments. A few days ago in Paris, John Paul Gaultier dressed the ample-and-proud Beth Ditto in strips of beige and oil-slick silk and sent her out as the opening look. Other non-size-4s followed. And Saks says they’re going to be bringing in more sizes — read: bigger sizes. The fashion media loves both of these stories: social media as muse, design democracy, and etc etc. But I imagine that women like the Wear What When reader are a little impatient with it all. I mean, how much time did you spend figuring out what you were going to wear last Saturday night? And if your choices were cut in half by a lack of good options?

Seattle is not without some options in this department. Friends and colleagues mentioned a couple of shops in the area where loose, boxy-cut, vaguely Asian designer-inspired garments – often made of linen or similar fabrics – come in size 14-and-up. But my sense is that those stores are not exactly what this reader is looking for. "Seattle has a ton of cool shops for women who want to dress funky, creative, and local—if those women are size zip to 10," she wrote. "I browse in those kinds of stores and see unique pieces that would look fantastic on my roommate. We just want the same stuff the other girls get to wear, sold local, sized and proportioned for those of us with boobs and bellies."

Do you know something that she and I don’t? Can you send this woman to an independently owned shop where full-figures can get inside the best fall looks? Because she’s not alone. When I talked with Tara Lynn, the stunningly beautiful Seattle-based model pictured here — and on the cover and in pages of French Elle, she too lamented the lack of local shopping options.

What do we think, Seattle? Can someone do it? Will someone do it?

Before I turn it over to you — and really, we want your suggestions here — I think it’s a good time to post some thoughts I’ve been having about the whole shopping local thing. While I am still 100% a believer and a practice-what-I-preacher, I am more and more aware of and sensitive to those who earn their living (and spend their extra cash in local restaurants and record stores and on magazine subscriptions) working in outposts of national and international chains. If Salesman A at [insert Name of Department Store or Big Name Brand here] gets a good commission on the [you pick: housewares, shoes, whatever] you buy from him, isn’t that in some sense shopping local, too? And another good point was raised by a friend I recently made at one such national chain: Don’t we like having the best national brands on our streets, snuggled in next to the indies and moms-and-pops. Doesn’t it make us feel a little more cosmopolitan and worldly? Like so many things, it all comes down to moderation.

So you tell us: Where — independently owned or otherwise — can a girl with a bit of an added dimension feel good about what she’s going to wear next Saturday night?