National Leggings Are Pants Day

I grew up with parents who had a pretty stern sense of decency. We had rules for what we could and could not wear.

Going to school? Your skirt better hit your knee.

Going to a formal function? Your going to wear a formal dress.

Going out in public? There better not be holes in your jeans.

Going for a job interview? You better not be wearing jeans.

That’s not to say we were puritan, or religous. My parents just wanted to instill in us a sense of how to show respect to the people around you by adjusting your clothes to the function. (Though, plenty of young gentlemen learned their lesson about wearing baggy jeans a little too low in my house.)

So, I get the idea of what should or should not be worn “in public.” I also relate to those who feel like there are concrete rules that people should be obeying. (I always subconsciouly twitch when I see someone going for a job interview in ratty jeans as an old band tee shirt.)

But, here’s the catch.

My grandmother also taught me that my rights only go beyond my nose. She taught me it’s not my job to judge people, or to enforce my rules of life on them.

So, it’s not my place to care what you wear in public. And, really, the majority of rules that revolve around the use of leggings are rooted in the idea that women always have to look attractive. It’s all about hiding our butts, or our camel toes, or our fat rolls. Let’s be honest. That’s bullshit.

It’s not your place to tell me what I can or cannot wear. If you don’t like how I look, then don’t look at me. It’s simple as that.

It’s okay to have your individual set of boundaries and rules for what should be worn in public. What’s not okay is forcing your rules onto others. Keep your judgement out of my closet.

Sweater Dress: The Look

I wrote previously about the day I purchased my first sweater dress. I learned a lot that day, especially that not all clothes are worthy of my body. But, this dress certainly was.

I will admit I’m not a huge fashion person. I tend to live in clothes that are more worthy of a #OORL (outfit of real life) hastag versus the #OOTD (outfit of the day) loveliness most of my counterparts are posting these days.

Fashion, generally, makes me sad for one of two reasons. The first, is it reminds me that I do not have a large amount of income to devote to developing and maintaining an amazing closet. I always feel like, when I do really try to pull an outfit together, that I am usually missing some vital piece of the vision (usually the shoes.) Secondly, I still battle with the difference between hiding my physical flaws from the world and wearing what makes me feel comfortable and pretty before I look in the mirror.

After getting this sweater dress, and finding everything I ever wanted in my current wardrobe to pull it together, I was reminded if something amazing about fashion. Finding clothes that are worthy of my body, and really taking the time to get dressed, is a way of honoring my body and investing in it. I suppose I cannot do the moment real justice with words, but I will say it was empowering.

The selfie I sent her with the text, “Did I do this right?”

I also wanna give a shout-out to one of my best friends. She walked me through the entire process of trying to style this dress. A sweater dress, in many ways, is one of the most unforgiving and difficult wardrobe pieces a person can wear. Since it was my first, ever, I desperately needed someone to hold my hand through it. I appreciate you (and love you!) Thank you for making this outfit happen. ❤

Alright, so on the the knitty-gritty. I really own no brand name clothes, so I’m not sure it will help to tell you the brands of these pieces. The dress was purchased at Ross. They have quite a few short sleeved sweater dresses on the rack right now. The dress is a 1x.

The belt actually came with a dress I got at a clothing exchange a year or so ago. I wear the belt more than I wear the dress. I’ll admit I don’t wear a belt very often, but I am slowly beginning to understand their benefits, especially in a case like this.

The leggings were from Wal*Mart. Though, they may be one size too big these days. I found them bunching up and getting loose after 20 minutes if I didn’t keep an eye on them.

The shoes! These were the most commented item, for sure. I have had these shoes for almost a year. To be honest, I don’t remember which discount shoe store I purchased them for. They were, originally, part of my anniversary outfit this (last?) year. Occasionally I find reasons to bring them out.

My make-up was very minimal. I just wore lip gloss and mascara. Seeing as I never wear make-up usually, this made enough of an impact for me. I accented the mostly black/grey outfit with a pop of red in my earrings and my bracelet. The earrings were purchased at the Saturday Market in Portland last year.  The bracelet was an amazing, handcrafted, gift from a friend for my birthday a couple years ago.

The best thing I wore was my confidence. I never once doubted how amazing I looked that night. My husband and I had an amazing date, and got to spend a couple hours really enjoying Downtown Bend, and each other.

 

Wrestling With The Rolls

I was getting dressed for a girl’s night out and decided to try on a dress from the back of my closet. This dress hasn’t been off it’s hanger in at least 7 years, making the dress approximately 10 years old. (The fact that I have clothes this old makes me cringe a bit. I suppose I’m still working on coming to terms with my age as well.) It’s one of those pieces that I absolutely loved, pre-baby body.

When I put on this dress I was absolutely ecstatic. The last time I tried this dress on it wouldn’t even go over my breasts. But this time, it slide all the way down like it was cut specifically for the body I have now. It was like coming home to an old friend who is so happy to see me that it brightens the rest of my day.

Then, I remembered a problem I have with this dress. I had it before, and I have it now. The cut has always been slightly off for my hips.

As I’m staring at the mirror, my gaze goes from enjoying the entire look to narrowing on this one sliver of a section. That roll. That one roll ruined the whole moment for me.

As I was wallowing in my sorrow, the body positive work I have been doing kicked in. I started to ask myself why is this roll bothering me? Is it because it’s there and I don’t like it? Is it because it’s there and I think other people won’t like it? I’m really not sure. I know what my budding philosophy on the matter says to me. A roll is a roll. It is part of my body. My body is unique because it has features that other bodies do not have. Those features come in many forms, including rolls and curves. It is society that condemns this uniqueness in my outward appearance. But, because what other people think of me is none of my business, it does not matter what society thinks. It matters what I think. I think that I am beautiful. (How’s that for a mouthful.)

You would think that paragraph would solve this mental conundrum of mine. Yet, I’m still left wondering why I am bothered by this roll. I have a few parts of my body that I am working on accepting. It is the root of the bother that, well, bothers me. Am I distracted by this one silver of a section of my profile because I dislike it or because I worry someone looking at me will dislike it?

Sometimes I think the body positive messages in the world gloss over the journey. It’s not always a single light bulb moment. For me, this whole mindset is taking time. I will say this. Even though this roll vexes me, it does not change how I feel about myself. I am still a good person. I am still deserving of love and happiness. I am still enough. It’s this lesson that is so important. I can waste the time wondering about how my outward appearance presents itself, but I never have to worry about my self-worth again.

Post-Script: As I was looking through, and uploading the pictures, I realized something. I’m not really seeing in the pictures what I’m seeing in the mirror.

I think I just came to terms with these rolls.

The discomfort is of my own creation. 

 

What Happened When I Chased The Dragon Away

Last night, I took some time to step outside and catch the Supermoon Lunar Eclipse. The eclipse reminded me of an episode of Big Love, where the First and Second Wives and their daughter stood in their backyard banging pots and pans. This referenced an ancient Chinese myth that an eclipse was caused by a dragon who was trying to eat the Sun or Moon. They would make as much noise as possibly to scare away this dragon, who is now immortalized as a constellation of stars known as Draco.

As I was thinking about this, I realized how often I “bang my pots and pans” against my own adversity. Not just body positive stuff, but in general. When I come up against a road block of some sort, I tend to make a large amount of noise until it goes away. Eventually, the situation works out for itself and the challenge is overcome.

But, I’m beginning to wonder, if this is also a false correlation. Maybe my problems would resolve themselves without all this noise. Maybe I don’t have to yell, and scream, and fight in order to get the resolution I desire. I will eventually move away from the shadows of my problems to be fully lit up by all the wonderful things in my life.

When someone upsets me, I tend to want to vocalize my hurt. I want to sit down and verbally vomit all of my hurt and frustration. I want to bang my pots and pans in their face until their ears bleed and they are in as much pain as I am. The problem with these dragons in life, is it doesn’t change anything. I may feel better, and maybe even it resolves that particular situation, but in the end my noise making doesn’t make a bit of difference.

Instead, I should really stop letting this “dragons” put me in a shadow at all. What people say about us really has no bearing on our lives whatsoever, unless we let them. We decide whether they are the dragon trying to eat the light of our happiness, or if they are the moon that is being eaten by their own shadowy behavior.

So, the next time someone tries to put me in the umbra of their own fat phobia (or any other shady-ness), I’ve learned that they are really causing the eclipse in their own life. What they say doesn’t change my shine, nor does it change yours. We are all beacons of happiness and self-acceptance.

 

 

 

How I Win A Mirror Ball Trophy

“… you think you are better at west coast (swing) than you really are.”

I received this feedback recently, and it struck me how similar it is to what fat people hear about their lives. So many in world want fat people to be miserable because of how they look. If a fat person “dares” to live their life exuding confidence they are told they act happier than they really are, or at least happier than they should be.

There is this idea in the world that you have to have certain things, or be certain things, to be happy. I have to be a certain weight and look a certain way, before fat shamers think it’s okay for me to wear a smile (not to mention horizontal stripes or contour dresses). That’s why they think it’s glorifying obesity anytime someone overweight is seen in the media doing ANYTHING other than crying.

I can go out on a dance floor and enjoy myself, because my goal is to enjoy myself. I’m not blind to my lack of skill set. I certainly have no delusions of grandeur about entering a dance competition anytime soon. The same philosophy goes for life. I don’t always know the right steps to take, and I’ve been known to stumble through difficult situations. That doesn’t change my worth, and it certainly doesn’t have to take away my smile.

There will always be a panel of self-appointed judges in the world. They will sit on the side of the life’s dance floor and critic everyone they see. Since I started this journey, I’ve stopped dancing, or living, for them. What they think of me is none of my business. What matters is if I’m dancing my way through life in a way that makes me feel happy and fulfilled. As long as I can look myself in the mirror and give myself a high score all the categories that matter (Am I a good person? Am I good mom? Am I good wife?), then I’m winning the only mirror ball trophy I care about.

I don’t mind admitting that I smile when I think of the self-appointed judges of the world. I like to think I try to bring happiness to everyone I meet. And, if snickering about my dance and life makes people happy, then I’m glad they are watching. It costs me nothing to make them smile.