Or as I used to pronounce it LuLUlimon. As much as I would like to say that I am lining up with my svelte cohorts, this generation’s soccer moms and yoga buffs, to purchase your $98 leggings, alas I cannot. It’s not because I refuse to pay $98 for little more than thin stretchy material designed to cover your modesty while contorting your body into improbable positions–which I do refuse to do. It’s because your sizes stop before the average American woman’s begin.

Knowing your prices beforehand, I’d never actually stepped into your store. This weekend, however, at my local LuLUlimon, us Orangetheoreticians were to receive a 25% discount. I thought to myself, ‘Why not?’ and deigned to enter your store.

While I would like to say your salespeople were haughty and unwelcoming, because once I saw your sizes, that is how I felt, I cannot. A salesperson came to welcome us and was very kind. One pass through the store, however, and I knew I’d never find anything to fit my larger than average form.

I paused at the headbands, but I couldn’t bring myself to pay $14 for such a small item I could actually get three in a pack for $4. Are they that superior? I considered a yoga mat. But the nearly $70 price tag caused me physical pain.

Statistics say that 68% of American women wear a size 14 or above. That is 68% of women in America that cannot shop in your store. Plus-size fashion is a 21 billion dollar industry and your store is missing out on your share of that plus-sized pie.

Ultimately, I plan to get myself to a size that is deemed appropriate by your store. But I won’t be shopping there.