I really liked the book “Size 12 is not fat” by Meg Cabot when I read it last summer. I’m not sure if I just relate to the main character Heather Wells too much, or if it’s the fact that the story is about a chubby girl that gets the guy in the end. It’s been a while since I read it, but a recent Google search reminded me of it.
In between Twitter and Netflix I started to think about Spring Break. I’m currently on break from one school, but because I balance two, the breaks don’t line up. To my displeasure a winter filled with leggings does not typically hide the same figure that was present during the summer months. I decided to Google “flattering clothes for size 12” (since that’s my estimated current size) and got a link to an Oprah article with frumpy mom dresses and a Wiki post on “3 Ways To Dress Well When You’re Overweight”. I was insulted and irritated, because I know I’ve been blessed, but I am not overweight. I am content with my figure, of course it could be thinner, but I see how my friends and I have obsessed over our size for far too long and I’m over it. The pineapple coconut Haagen Daz icecream is worth it and taking a more modest approach to swimsuit season is okay!
I have decided since I returned home in January that there are more important things to consume myself with than my weight. I am still healthy and I exercise more now than I have since Field Hockey in my Junior year of high school. I can only hope people that are deemed “skinny” are as happy as I am. There is frustration, but I have come to the conclusion from my weight fluctuation that regardless of the fact I am a 6 or a 12, there will always be someone smaller, prettier, etc. I just have to do the best with what I’ve got. If I feel like passing on the potato chips, great! My body may love me back for that, but do I love me back?
I’d rather be happy and deemed fat by society, than skinny and miserable.
The average dress size in America is a 14 and my plump freshman fifteen blessed ass has ventured comfortably from an 8/10 to a firm 10/12. The only reason I care, is that I have way too many pairs of size 8 J Crew shorts that need to be replaced. What I think is ridiculous is that unlike the book title by Meg Cabot, size 12 is fat in America. The average size 14 is made up of all age ranges, including 18 year old girls. The size 12 demographic is being pushed to the mom jeans section so I can only imagine for a size 14 it’s worse. The junior’s department is too clingy and unflattering for anyone larger than twiggy and twiggy is from the UK, not America.
I decided back when I was 14 that I was built with a woman’s curves, it’s the fashion industry that needs to catch up. Adele is a size 16 and although black does look phenomenal against her porcelain skin does she have other options? I bet anything that it’s harder to keep your head held high if you have a little more to love and you’re famous. People are constantly dissecting her waist line instead of her powerful voice. At least us average chubbies have sweatpants to hide in.
I have come to the conclusion our bodies aren’t the issue,
I’m writing this post as a little pep talk to myself. After a dinner of home made mac and cheese and carrot sticks I have to open the six bins of summer clothes and conquer them. Whether the results send them to Plato’s Closet or my closet, I have to accept it. Just because it zips doesn’t mean it fits, and I’m okay with that. It could be worse (see photo edit #2).