Dressing Room Wisdom.

Last night, I indulged in a little retail therapy. Descending on The Limited’s sale racks like the bargain hound I am, I filled my arms with loads of clearance-priced goodies. Sure, I wouldn’t normally go for a bright purple pinch-pleated skirt, but for $14.99, why not give it a try?

Arriving in the dressing room, I remembered why. Purple pinch pleats do bad things to my hips and butt.

I was staring into the mirror and sighing, thinking all kinds of unkind things about my body, when I heard something completely unexpected.

“Good lord, look at my thighs. I can’t wear this!” (that wasn’t the unexpected part).

“What are you talking about? You look great!”

“No. These jeans are too tight.”

“They are not. They’re perfect. You have curves. Embrace them!”

“You say curves, I say fat thighs.”

“We have thighs to protect our lady parts. They’re a good thing!”

“Maybe, but I just feel so self conscious…”

The other woman sighed.

“Look at me, then look at you. Do you think I look fat?”

“No, you look great!”

“And yet, I’m 80 pounds heavier than you. Do you know what the difference is?”

Silence (I assume she shrugged her shoulders or something).

“I love my curves. They make me look like a woman. Not some teenage boy. And you know what? Men like them, too.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing. You girls don’t know how to appreciate what God gave you. I think I need to write a book…”

Her companion laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“So you’re going to get the jeans?”

“I’ll get the dang jeans. If you write that book.”

You know why that conversation was so awesome? The woman standing up for a woman’s right to be curvy actually believed what she was saying.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve stood in a dressing room issuing empty-mouthed assurances many a time. But I’ve never, in my heart of hearts, believed what I was saying.

Society – my society – has taught me that we’re all supposed to be a size 6. With the classic 36, 24, 36 measurements. And since, once upon a time, I actually had those measurements, it’s tough to believe I can be okay at any other size.

It’s refreshing to know it doesn’t have to be that way. That other women have already figured that out.

Maybe someday, the rest of us will too.

 

 

8 Comments on Dressing Room Wisdom.

  1. C @ Kid Things
    January 29, 2012 at 10:45 pm (4 years ago)

    Words of wisdom in unexpected places. I wish I could go back and appreciate the size I was 10 years, 3 kids, and 50+ pounds of my last baby weight that’s not just going to slide off all on its own ago. Though I should probably work more on appreciating where I am now (though that 50 pounds still has to go, I keep telling myself).

    Reply
    • Amber
      February 1, 2012 at 9:31 pm (4 years ago)

      30 years from now, when our boobs are down to our waists and our necks are starting to flap, we’ll be mentally shaking our fists at these younger versions of ourselves. We should just stop our moaning now.

      Reply
  2. Jen
    January 30, 2012 at 4:29 pm (4 years ago)

    A long time ago, I gave up trying to be a certain size. I just love me for me, curves and lumps and all.

    Reply
    • Amber
      February 1, 2012 at 9:30 pm (4 years ago)

      Yep. I’ll get that smart someday. Someday soon, maybe? I hope so.

      Reply
  3. Lady Jennie
    January 31, 2012 at 10:00 am (4 years ago)

    It is SO refreshing to hear that in a dressing room. I wish we could all have her in our dressing room to build us back up after we tear ourselves down!

    Reply
    • Amber
      February 1, 2012 at 9:29 pm (4 years ago)

      I know. I’m my own worst enemy in the dressing room. I hope I don’t pass it on to my daughter. I really hope.

      Reply
  4. Missy @ Wonder, Friend
    February 1, 2012 at 3:23 pm (4 years ago)

    This just made me laugh, because it was a sweet and funny conversation those two had in that dressing room. And then I promptly burst into tears. Believing in ourselves – in our bodies, our work, our lives – shouldn’t be so hard. That dressing room woman is a hero for embracing herself and sharing that confidence. I want to be like her one day.

    Reply
    • Amber
      February 1, 2012 at 9:28 pm (4 years ago)

      I want to be her when I grow up, too. We’ll get there. Eventually. I’m almost positive.

      Reply

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