New Body. New Style...Eventually.

     As a fat kid in the 90's I didn't have many options in fashion and style.  I shopped at two stores; Lane Bryant and the XXL department of JcPenney. I didn't have the luxury to think about my personal style or what image I wanted to project - I just walked in and grabbed what I could tolerate and what would fit. When the time came for me to start caring about my style, my style had been already chosen for me - outdated grandma look. 

5th and 6th grade. Not my fondest years. 

     Thankfully as I got older the clothing options for the overweight expanded and I no longer had to sport flowers and cats. High school was a battle to dress myself.  I hated shopping with my friends because I couldn't fit into even the largest size in the store. Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe where not stretching over any part of me.  I learned to cry at home and show my big girl pride face in public.  I tried several different styles to disguise my lack of personal style. I tried goth but my mom just about killed me. Hippie worked. Long skirts and flip flops, easy enough. By the time I graduated high school I had no style as my style. I wore anything including a sparkly red cowboy hat with matching red fringe boots (thankfully there is no photographic evidence).  In college it evolved into a punk look, black hair and piercings. By the time I was 21 I didn't like my look. I didn't like standing out because I looked hard, angry, AND fat.

     I started over. Gone where the days of chains on my pants and a bolt in my tongue.  Now I had glamorized myself.  My hair got bigger and my make-up got thicker. Lane Bryant kept me fashionable AND in debt. The make-up girls at Macy's knew they could sell me just about anything because someday I was going to find the magic powder that, when applied to my face, would make my butt look smaller. 

     This is the "look" that evolved with me as my weight dropped down until I was no longer able to shop at Lane Bryant and Torrid. Now I could shop ANYWHERE!! This was a dream come true for me, the ability to walk into any store and know something is going to fit. About this time is also when I had my very own life crisis. I wanted to live the glory days I never had as the cute high school girl. I wanted the cute dresses, the adorable shirts, and graphic tee's that, as a fat girl, I couldn't wear.  At 27 I probably should have just let that dream go but I walked into Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe and I bought those cute (way too short for me) dresses, and those adorable (look like I'm in denial about my age) shirts, and I rocked the graphic tee (with a blazer, it really was cute). With my make-up caked on and the most uncomfortable shoes I could find, I was ready to make memories. 

     I dressed like I was 16 until I hit 30 and I suddenly felt out of place in my Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt. Recapturing youth and too much makeup was not talked about in Weight Watchers meetings. I wasn't prepared to not know how to dress myself. I  looked to women in my life that inspired me and realized none of these ladies where shopping in the juniors department and it might be time to embrace the 30 year old woman I had become. I struggle to make fashion choices that compliment me, I fight my inner fat teenager who wants the short low cut dress. 

To help combat these choices I have a set of rules I follow when I'm shopping:    

           

                      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      I'm learning to love my body and showcase it as it is.  I dress my best now because that super model body I keep waiting for isn't going to get here and in the meantime I need to rock what I have with style and class.  I may not have been able to be the teenager I wanted to be but I will be the woman I hoped I'd grow up to be. 

Verily Changed Everything

     When I decided to take control of how I felt about my body, I had to consider what was causing me to feel bad about it in the first place.  While pondering this thought my eyes kept glossing over the latest cover of “Cosmo” that had arrived in the mail. Then it happened - my lighting bolt moment - the magazines I read!! Duh!! I allow myself to be subjected to Photoshopped bodies and wonder why when I look in the mirror I'm not always happy.  I knew what I had to do.

     I took control and purged my house of every Photoshopped magazine I had. The recycling bin was filled with “Cosmo”, “Shape”, and “Marie Claire”.  I was a woman on a mission. No more lies! No more guilt! Good-bye! Immediately I felt better. I felt empowered. I'm not stupid. I know the images are altered - why was I comparing myself to these illusions? Not anymore.

     I had resigned to never reading another magazine again until I found out about "Verily magazine."

The following is taken from the website: 

OUR PHOTOSHOP POLICY

Whereas other magazines photoshop to achieve the “ideal” body type or leave a maximum of three wrinkles, we never alter the body or face structure of our models with Photoshop. We firmly believe that the unique features of women — be it crows feet, freckles, or a less-than-rock-hard body — contribute to their beauty and therefore don’t need to be removed or changed.

Verily is a new kind of women’s magazine: one that celebrates the best of who you are. We feature fashion that is worthy of the woman, relationship articles that go beyond sex tips, and strong cultural and lifestyle journalism. Verily is the modern woman’s go-to guide on how                                                to lead a fulfilling, integrated life.

   Finally a publication for strong, empowered women!! Am I worried about the '10 Things He's Thinking About in Bed'? No. I'm a married woman looking to enhance my soul, my relationships, and my mind.  I want to love what I see in the mirror. I want to embrace my curves.  I want to love my face, laugh lines included. “Verily” takes me seriously as a woman, imperfections and all! 

   

  I want to get this magazine into the hands of every high school and college girl. The message of sex, sex, sex, is shoved in front of young minds every day, and we wonder why our youth is focused on the physical and not the intellectual.  This is a magazine I am proud to have on my coffee table. I do not have to hide the cover of it from my nine year old son. I want to raise him to be the kind of man that loves a woman for WHO she is and not the package she comes in. That message starts with me. I have taken away the images that objective women and replaced them with images of smiling real women.  

   We can take charge of the images we are subjected too. We do not have to look at Photoshopped models. The more we spread the message that there are alternatives that enhance our lives, the stronger the message will be to main stream media.  It is time we take back our mental health and STOP subjecting ourselves to lies that breed self hate and poor body image. 

     “Verily Magazine” can be found at Barnes and Nobles and a subscription can be purchased on the website. Indulge yourself!

**UPDATE** Verily is no longer a published magazine. It is only available online. 

Never Tackled to See Size

 

     I enjoy clothes and fashion, though for many years I have not enjoyed trying on clothes.  As a kid I drove my grandmother insane in my refusal to get in the dressing room.  She would have to yell at me in middle of Penney's to get me to do it. It took a long time to let go of my distain for that small square box of doom.

     A dressing room is a box that could make or break my day. As a kid I was not excited to try on the kitty cat sweater. I did not want to look at myself in bad lighting at the end of the day, my hair matted to my head from playground sweat.  As I got older, and bigger, I did not want to look at my body or the size tag. In high school I would occasionally attempt to try on something in the stores my friends shopped (Forever 21 did not cater to a full figure when I was younger.) In these junior size stores I could not pull clothes all the way up or stretch it all the way over.  I left a massacre in dressing rooms of over stretched fabrics, busted seems, and popped off buttons.  These moments only fueled the fire of dressing room hate.

   

I wanted my confidence back! 

 Clothing stores that catered to my size where physically easier to shop in - I maintained blood circulation throughout the process. Mentally I would take a beating. My heart always dropped when I would have to reach for the eighteens, twenty two's, and at one point in my life the twenty eights.  At this size I did not feel sexy. Everyone has a different size that makes them comfortable and confident, mine was not at size twenty eight. I could have been a quick change artist; I wanted to get in and out without having to look  at the sad girl in the mirror.  The dressing room mirror seemed to zoom in on fat rolls, stretch marks, and a bad hair day.  If I looked as bad as I felt I'm sure rocks would have been thrown at the troll set loose in the mall.


     Weight loss is, in theory, supposed to fix the distain for trying on clothes. It helped. The freedom to walk into any store was liberating, though it did bring on new anxieties.  I had not been able to let go of the dread of something not fitting. I did not believe the size tag. There is no way  I was going to fit into a medium! I had my pile of clothes I was ready to conquer in the dressing room and a hint of panic starts to build.  I knew I was holding my current size but, just like in high school, I had that fear of another fabric massacre.  

      Over the past couple years the panic has subsided but it still rears it's ugly head every now and then. The perfect dress, the dress that I could not wear before, causes me to hold my breath every time I reach for the zipper.  My mind's eye and my reflection in the mirror did not always match. It felt like I was waiting for the ball to drop, I was going to wake up from the dream and be back to holding the XXL. I was not prepared to have continued fear in the dressing room. The change in size did not remove the fear of humiliation. When I put the clothes on and don't resemble the hulk after I put them on, can I finally exhale. 

     I've often felt that when the weight came off and I reached my goal size that everything would fall into place. I would slow motion run through the mall, arms over flowing with bags, with my hair and make-up flawless. Nope, regardless of size I still saw a  "big" girl because that's all I'd ever known. It took years after losing my weight to believe what I see in the mirror. I have learned that it is not the size on the tag that dictates how I feel about my body, it is how the clothes look on me and how I feel in them. Once I let go of the size I set my confidence free. It was never my body that was wrong, it was the clothes I was trying to stuff it in. I let a tag tell me whether I was worthy or not. Denying my size only contributed in my self hate. NEVER AGAIN!! If something does not fit or look right it is the clothes NOT me and I will go and get the size that fits better. When it fits and flatters my body I feel beautiful. What I want people to see is a woman who treats her body with class and respect. My clothes fit and flatter my figure, even if that means it is a large. 

No one has ever run out of the bushes and tackled me to see the size tag on my shirt.  So who cares what size I am wearing if I look amazing in my outfit?!