Suddenly, it hit me. The mannequins were all white, in all the windows of the store. Cannot let that ride, I thought, not in my beloved New York City, pulsing hub of diverse people and diverse colors. And so I stopped walking and headed inside.

“As you can see, I am a white woman,” I said to the startled customer service clerk, also a white woman, at one of the most celebrated stores on Fifth Avenue, building up slowly. “But I think it would be nicer if your windows did not have only white mannequins. Can I leave a note for your windows manager?”

Startled, the clerk took the note.

I continued, “And the change shouldn’t be hard. You do own non-white mannequins.”

I had already checked that out before heading upstairs. On the first floor, there were two beautiful honey-toned mannequins, dressed in luscious silk, supple creamy leather bags draped over their arms.  Nice, but inside is not outside, for the world to see.

I headed home and wrote a recap email to a store vice president whose name I had found after much pecking around the web.  All this seemed like a no-brainer, even for crass reasons – brick-and-mortar stores can barely stay open and attract customers, so surely if more people felt drawn by the windows, that would be good for business?

I got no answer, so a few weeks later, I checked the windows.  Still all-white.

Maybe I should have dropped it then, but the windows’ monochrome had begun to echo on my mind since the Black Lives Matter movement and all the other violent and ugly divisions in our nation—and I know that concerned white people can do more to weed out racism.

Mannequins may seem trivial, but by locking in only one color, all-white mannequins are by default racist, however inadvertently.  And if we tolerate subtle racism in nooks like shop windows, that enables more insidious racism throughout society.  Shop windows are not harmless. After all, what are shop windows for?  To tell you what’s inside and who is welcome to come in. All-white mannequins in a window say that whiteness is the default, that only white faces exist, only whites are included in the intention, only whites are seen

I began more window shopping and as happens, once I began looking, I noticed all-white mannequins in almost all the stores I checked.  Once I became tuned in to the whiteness of mannequins, I had to wonder what women of color think when they look and are not represented.

Surely we can do better with inclusion. Maybe some vanguard volunteer shops in New York could explicitly adopt a diversity-in-mannequins standard and lead the rest of the country?  Other cities, especially London and Amsterdam, already seem way ahead on the diversity in mannequins front.  And so unfolded my humble campaign.

I began a round of phone tag with the assistant of the vice-president I had written at the first store.  Weeks passed.  At last we connected.  She asked me to resend my letter – which she said had not been received and had said in part: “I myself am not a person of color, but I can imagine that shoppers and others of color who walk past your windows might wish to see at least a hint of themselves represented in your windows…As you know, society more and more has recognized the importance and value of diversity of cultures, and this includes diversity in looks and race. Therefore, I wonder if you could arrange for the current windows to be re-organized to include mannequins that are not white, and therefore convert your otherwise evocative and striking windows into important statements about the diversity of forms of beauty and elegance.”

Finally, after some months, I got an email from the vice president, with CCs to a handful of other personnel.  But it was just a cautious blow-off.  Who was I, after all, and what were all white mannequins to me? Perhaps they worried I planned to sue.  The response thanked me for my comment, adding merely that the store “seeks to celebrate diversity across all of its platforms, whether in store, print or digital.” But the windows were still all white.

When Christmas came, a few weeks later, I checked again. Surprise. A main window featuring zodiac sign figures had one honey-colored mannequin. Two windows down, a set-up featuring only zebra colors had two mannequins—one midnight black, one driven snow white.  50:50, some progress, I guess, though who can say if I can take any credit.

I still keep an eye on those windows, and they are often back to all-white.  And I often visit a ubiquitous mid-market chain where the windows wrap around a major corner.  Their six windows not only had only white mannequins, but the phalanx of mannequins just inside the main door was also a wall of whiteness.  The manager said, “Good point. We are having a meeting about the floor tomorrow.  I’ll bring it up.” But still only all-white mannequins.  I tried the same store again a bit later, and this time spoke to a young male black floor manager. He said, “wow, I’ll bring that up. I didn’t even know they made non-white mannequins.” But next time I checked, still only all-white.

My windows inspection is now a part of my daily routine—Instagram maybe next.  In and out of stores I go when I’ve got some time and pass an offender.

I’ve had one almost overnight success at a classic men’s department store—half the windows now have handsome mannequins of color in crisp hip jackets and ties.  And, of course, some stores have already broken the mold with mannequins of all colors in their windows—jet black to every honey tone, stripes, dots and hot sci-fi colors. But the default still is pure white.

I get that mannequins are a design feature in themselves, rich in their own design history, and white offers certain advantages relative to light and maybe event cost.  I know that white may seem neutral, and that white makes clothes pop.  But when a rainbow of diversity is so much more prevalent among real-life models and advertising in all media, all white window mannequins seem entirely passé.

“Resist, reject, rebel” is my new mantra when it comes to being served up an all-white world.

So how about ditching only all-white mannequins for an alternative brand, a la “WelcomingWindows?” That would become a must-have logo for any store, an inspiring landscape in which to design, and a true window on the soul of the more just society we seek.

Paula DiPerna is an author and global environmental public policy advisor.

Editor’s Note: The views expressed in this feature article are those of the author.