…is that it’s depressing. It’d be a flat out lie to say that I don’t like shopping. I like it so much in fact that I need to take steps to curb it. On days when I feel like my life has been a real bummer, there is nothing a cute little dress won’t cure.
Then comes the actual shopping. I’m by no means a petite lady but in the past 10,950 days I’ve spent on this planet, it has been a molasses-like realization ( a true understanding, not just ‘knowledge’) that the world has an idea of what I look like, what my body SHOULD look like and everything that I like has been catered to that ideal. Instead of buying clothes for my body and myself, I’m buying clothes that get me closer to that skewered ideal.
Instead of buying clothes for my body and myself, I’m buying clothes that get me closer to that skewered ideal.
And thus, I try on a multitude of cute dresses that grace the store shelves with their overwhelming cuteness that just… don’t look so cute on me. I tell myself “maybe you should just lose some weight instead of buying new clothes” or “maybe if your legs weren’t so stumpy or your shoulders weren’t so broad… ”
Rationally, I’m aware that I’m falling into that same ol’ trap but when I’m standing in front of the mirror and don’t like what I see, it doesn’t take long for me to convince myself that I’m full of regrets.
So here’s a real FK YOU to society. I’m taking back my wardrobe and my self-esteem that you want so badly. I will have my cake and eat it too… just.. at a much, much slower pace.