Battle of the sizes

I used to be a size 4. When I was 18. I looked skeletal, but a lot of teenage girls do. I remember being terribly upset when I had to buy size 8 clothes two years later. I had started taking medication with a side-effect of weight gain. Then homesickness and undiagnosed thyroid problems hit and I skyrocketed into the plus sizes. 

I'm 27 now, and it's only been in the last few months that I've started losing weight. And it has definitely not been easy! I've managed to wrestle my weight back down to a "regular" size 12 (in some stores), but I'll never forget how humiliating that journey into plus size territory has been. It's not just that I was sincerely grossed out by my own body; it's that other people were too, and their reactions TAUGHT me to feel that way about myself. 

The most specific example I can think of is when, after gradually coming to realize that regular stores didn't sell fashionable items in my size, my sister-in-law took me shopping. We started with shoes and watches--totally safe no matter your size. But then we strolled past her favourite store and she wanted to go in. It was my birthday, we only had another 20 minutes to shop, and I had travelled a long way to visit her and these stores, so I decided to be a bit selfish. "Well," I hesitated to explain, "none of their clothes...really...fit me, anymore." I almost whispered it. I've always felt self-conscious beside my SIL's seemingly effortless beauty, style, and fitness. She waved this concern aside, said she'd only take a quick look around, and went in anyway. She found an adorable dress and tried it on, and then debated over it for the next 20 minutes, while I exhausted the accessory rack. At one point, I found a cute jacket that ALMOST closed over my boobs... 

I know she had no idea how humiliating that experience was for me, but while the sales associates chatted and flattered her, and eagerly ran for different items for her to try on, they ignored me completely. They knew as well as I did that I had no business being in that store. Her experience was social and gratifying, and mine was isolating. I can't say I was sorry afterwards that we had to rush to meet my brother and end our shopping trip. 

I just stumbled across this article this morning. It brought it all back for me. 

"I dressed like my skinny best friend for a week to prove style has no size" 

The language is a bit too liberal for me--phrases like "thin privilege" are taking it a bit too far; I hardly think it's a thin woman's fault that another woman isn't thin! But it's true that larger women don't have the options thin women have; that larger women have almost to constantly apologize for their size--not necessarily in words, but by HAVING to buy clothes that reduce them, push them into the background, and never stand out as fashion statements. 

I ran across Eloquii.com last fall and started online shopping like a fiend from this store that caters specifically to plus-size women, but whenever the regular-sized women at work asked me where I'd bought such a fabulous skirt, I was so embarrassed to tell them it came from a store they'd never be able to shop at. Eloquii doesn't sell anything smaller than a 14. I started just saying "online" since I knew most of them preferred to try things on at a store. I avoid stores; the effort of finding a good deal on something you like, only to realize it will never fit you, is far too demoralizing. However, shopping at Eloquii did revitalize my own sense of fashion. I've reveled in wearing feminine skirts and dresses again, that defy the often unimaginative officewear most  common in my small town. It's been wonderful to feel pretty, and worthy of notice, despite my size: a feeling I didn't realize was gone till I finally had it back again. I would never wish that on anyone.

I'm not sure what my conclusion should be, but I know I wish for change. I wish that I could apologize to all the friends I had back when I was the thin best friend for waving off their concerns like my SIL did. I wish that I didn't feel grossed out by my overweight body; that it was normal to see beauty there; that I was one of the strong ones who had not been convinced to see Disney princesses and magazine models as the standard for beauty. I wish, and hope, that my baby niece, and someday my own daughter, will grow up in a world that sees beauty in so much more.