The Wardrobe Meltdown

Last night I was getting ready to go The Black Keys. For some reason, I wasn't overly excited about going - partly because I'd seen them before, and partly because I longed for a night in. I hate how those concerts always seem to be on weeknights! 

I couldn't decide what to wear. I don't know if regular sized girls ever have this problem or if it's just a plus size thing, but I had a wardrobe meltdown. Bed strewn with clothes and belts, hair a tangled mess from yanking dresses and tops on and off, a furrowed brow. Worse of all, a heavy and panicked heart, angry mood and depressed spirit. I looked fat in EVERYTHING. My last spray tan was long gone, so my legs were white and veiny and I didn't want to show them, but it was a hot night. Nothing I tried on seemed to work. 

In the end, logic and reason came to the rescue. I looked for an "old faithful" - the dress that always works. Usually black, clings in the right place (the tits) and lets go at the right place (the tummy). I didn't take any photos on the night, but here's a photo of the dress a few months ago:

Dress/belt/cardigan: City Chic

All was well in the end, but surviving a wardrobe meltdown is a grueling experience and it wrecks havoc with your confidence and self-esteem. I pride myself on my body confidence, but a wardrobe meltdown requires firm self-coaching to come out the other side intact. It's very hard to love your body and be confident when suddenly none of your clothes sit right (even though a lot of that is just in your head). There have been times when I've just totally pulled out of going somewhere and stayed home sulking because of a wardrobe meltdown. No matter how much you accept and love your body, we all still have our bad days.

I have my bad days.

One of the most important strategies to avoid contemplating suicide as you stare hatefully at your clothes, is to make sure that the only clothes in your wardrobe are ones that fit you beautifully. If something is too small or too big, store it away, sell it, donate it. Don't have it around, taking up space, tormenting you.

Having said that, sometimes the clothes have nothing to do with it. Most of the time, it's just in your head. 

Thinking back, I don't remember what anyone else was wearing at The Black Keys. In the end, did it really even matter what I wore in a darkened mosh pit? Silly me.

Beth Ditto Tells It

In my last blog, I wrote about how women tend to obsess about their weight and how our brain space can be consumed with thinking about how we look (often in a negative way). The latest Frankie magazine features an interview with Beth Ditto of Gossip, and something she said really connects to that idea:

“I was tired of seeing women tear themselves up and not move forward because they couldn’t be smaller. I didn’t understand that. I didn’t understand the idea how smaller meant bigger in a weird way: that being smaller meant you were a bigger person and got more options, or more this, or more that. I refused to accept it. I refused to accept that was the only way I would be appreciated, and that I would ever appreciate myself. There’s so much more to me than physical appearance. There is so much inside of you that is worth being listened to. When you’re so busy thinking about how much space you’re taking up – whether it’s too much or not enough – you won’t get to express those things, ever. And I think that’s one of the biggest cycles of sexism: everyone is constantly being distracted by appearance. And everyone is subjected to that: men, women, everyone. You can’t just exist, you have to be just so. And I still don’t get that. What I do understand, is that you have the power to see the world through your own eyes and you don’t always have to see it through other people’s. You create your own vision.”

She makes a fair point! When your mind is busy THINKING about your size, you’re not thinking about anything else! Beth said, “There is so much inside of you that is worth being listened to”, but if all you think about is your weight, you are not accessing all there is for you to offer. For starters, you’re so busy thinking about YOURSELF that your influence in the world diminishes. It’s an interesting thought. “Everyone is constantly being distracted by appearance”. If we weren’t so distracted by appearance, perhaps our thoughts would be more inventive, more creative, more innovative, more useful; at the very least, we’d be more interesting! Beth is right – there is so much more to us than physical appearance. So why don’t we believe that? There are whole feminist books devoted to that topic, but for now, what we can do, is dedicate our minds to “creating our own vision”. That means choosing to love your body NOW, not obsessing over weight, and basically, getting on with life!

Post Office Conversations

Dress: Hell Bunny

 

Plus size girls seek out plus size blogs for ideas, styles, a community...to not feel so damn alone in their fatness and dealing with the crap that goes with it. Marya Hornbacher, Wasted, writes that Anorexics and bulimics do the opposite - their struggle is very private and they hide it from others. At the end of the day, obesity and anorexia are just two extremes of the spectrum, but share a striking similarity. Obsession with weight. When I say obsession, I mean that thinking about your weight can take up most of your brain space. Thinking about food, thinking about NOT eating food - at the end of the day it's still thinking about food. And for many people, of all different body shapes and sizes, thinking about food brings on feelings of panic and paranoia. The fear of losing control. And gaining weight. Marya Hornbacher writes about her decision to overcome her eating disorder. She says, 

"And when you decide you are tired of being alone with your sickness, you go out seeking women friends, people who you believe can show you by example how to eat, how to live - and you find that by and large most women are obsessed with their weight. It's a little discouraging."

It's true. 

A page later,

"Women use their obsession with weight and food as a point of connection with one another, a commonality even between strangers. Instead of talking about why we use food and weight control as a means of handling emotional stress, we talk ad nauseam about the fact that we don't like our bodies. When you decide not to do that, you begin to notice how constant that talk is. I go to the gym, and women are standing around in their underwear bitching about their bellies, I go to a restaurant and listen to women cheerfully conversing about their latest diet, I go to a women's clothing store and the woman helping me, almost universally, will launch into a monologue about how these pants are very slimming, how lucky I am to have the problem of never being able to find clothes that fit, 'because you're tiny!' she'll squeal. I have to remind myself that it's not a conversation I want to get into. I refuse to say, 'Gee, thanks.' I don't necessarily want pants that are slimming. I don't want to look like the photos of skeletal models on the walls. Wanting to be healthy is seen as really weird."

I love that. I love the part where she says that when you decide not to talk about not liking your body, it brings a shift to your life. I've had to make that decision daily. My weight shouldn't be this fanatical daily stress. A number on the scale shouldn't rule your life; healthiness and balance is a better goal.

Yesterday I was standing in line at the post office. There was some Kinder chocolate strategically placed next to the queue, with a specials sign, "Only 99c". The lady in front of me commented on it, "They know exactly where to put them, don't they?" she said, rolling her eyes. She gave a big gusty sigh and made a show of "giving in" and grabbing one. We had a chuckle together. Then the lady behind me joined in and grabbed one too, saying, "Oh, I may as well, too." Caught up in the fun of it, I took one as well and said, "Oh, I will too then." It was a nice moment among strangers, but looking back, I wonder about the drama of it. Everyone, stop what you're doing. Earth, stop spinning. Three women gave into their desires and bought chocolate! A revolution has begun, women are losing control! 

Why is it that women buying chocolate is so bloody taboo that when we sense someone watching, we feel the need to confess to complete strangers our "lack of control" and the fact that we're "giving in to temptation". Give me a break. 

So to end that rant, here's what I wore to work today.

Dress: ASOS

Belt: City Chic

Necklace: Dangerfield
Collar Tips: Ebay

Shoes: Target, Hot Options

A Bicycle Race for a Fat Bottomed Girl

I bought a bicycle and it arrived on my front door today. I want to get more fit this summer and my boyfriend suggested we buy bikes. I was pretty apprehensive about it. Mainly because most cyclists you see are skinny-minny men in Lycra. And also because I haven't ridden a bike since I was a kid. 

When I got home from work, I spent about an hour getting the courage up to take it down the street. This is the unfortunate reality of a lot of plus size gals - the frustration that something simple like riding a bike can cause so much anxiety and doubt. But guess what? I did it. I rode on the road (as a kid it was strictly the path) and cars drove around me without beeping. People didn't stop and stare. I just...did it. My boyfriend bought me some portable speakers so I could hook up my iPhone, and I placed this in the basket and listened to Cut Off Your Hands and Jungle Giants as I rode. 

I went for a ride but came back home after 10 minutes because I forgot something. I forgot that I'm fat and can't ride for more than 10 minutes. I'll have to work on that ;)

On a side note, I'm reading this memoir of a girl who suffered from Bulimia and Anorexia. It's called Wasted, written by Marya Hornbacher. It's so beautifully written that I haven't been able to put it down. I haven't finished it, but she wrote something in the introductory chapter about her recovery that really struck a chord with me. She writes about the need to "make her way back to reality" on her own terms:

"My terms amount to cultural heresy. I had to say: I will eat what I want and look as I please and laugh as loud as I like and use the wrong fork and lick my knife. I had to learn strange and delicious lessons, lessons too few women learn: to love the thump of my steps, the implication of weight and presence and taking of space, to love my body's rebellious hungers, responses to touch, to understand myself as more than a brain attached to a bundle of bones. I have to ignore the cultural cacophony that singsongs all day long, Too much, too much, too much. As Abra Fortune Chernick writes, 'Gaining weight and pulling my head out of the toilet was the most political act I ever committed'."

This meant a lot to me because I'm learning what it truly means to love my body and enjoy it NOW. Not to wait until I'm a size 14 or smaller, or when that roll of fat right there disappears. The perfect body may never exist for me, and I'm okay with that. I've made my peace. Yes, I want to lose weight. But I love being curvy; I love my body as it is now. And it's taken me a long time to get to that place. Thank God I did. 

Yay for cultural heresy!