Growing up, I remember always feeling like I was fat even though I wasn’t. I was always self-conscious of how much space I took up. I hated the way I looked. I hated that I was tall from a young age, and when I gained weight, I just hated my appearance so much. I developed early and I hated my body even more. But the thing was, I was never told outright that I shouldn’t hate my body. In fact, it felt like I was constantly being told subliminally to hate it even more when it doesn’t look like the model on the cover of the magazines. Every time I picked up a magazine, it was always some new type of work out to get rid of body fat, women being shamed for gaining weight or for wearing what they wanted. Even though I sit on the thin line between average and plus, I was always self-conscious of not taking up too much space, making myself shrink, or trying not to be noticed.
The older I got, the more I hated this body. I hated the fact that I couldn’t go into all the stores that my friends could go into and just pick up a size off the shelf. I hated that I could never get in on the seven for $27 at Victoria’s Secret or Hollister jeans. Forget about it. Let’s not talk about Abercrombie and Fitch. But then there are the dreaded stores like H&M where their plus size department confines me to three racks, two shelves, and one teeny corner. I had to stay about six miles away from patterns because I might look like I need to be on a curtain rod. For the longest time, I found myself trying to squeeze into jeans that were meant to be hip-huggers, which did not in fact hug my hips; they may have caressed my muffin top, but no hugging. Then there were the big shirts that were too big, or shirts that were cut in unflattering styles.
Learning more about the way the fashion industry works, and some of the reasoning behind why stores or designers didn’t make clothes for curvier women, didn’t make it much better. If anything, it fueled my frustrations. The most common reasoning I read was how it’s hard to design something and put a size on it because it may not fit everyone; but wait: isn’t that what they do for regular sizes? That’s why some women are a size four in one store and a six in another, thus making this logic invalid.
I had to find inspiration to love my body first from within, but that was very hard. I’ll be honest: on some days, few and far between, I still deal with being insecure. Going shopping with my friends wasn’t fun; I never felt welcome in stores, and who wants to be somewhere where they feel unwanted and uncomfortable?
Discovering one place really played a key role for me: Forever 21+. I was a senior in high school when I stumbled across their line, and while it was just starting up, their selection was better than a lot of the places I was used to shopping. Then I discovered other stores with curvy selections, and I became ecstatic. Fashion to Figure, Rue 21+, and Charlotte Russe+ all started producing clothes for women like myself. Slowly, I began to gain confidence. I started to love my body because I was able to express what this body meant to me through clothes.
I was lucky enough to stumble right onto model Denise Bidot’s social media page. Her “There is no wrong way to be a woman” mantra spoke volumes to me. Having recognized her as one of the models for Forever21+, I decided to follow her and see what she had to say. Not only was she a successful model, a mother, a fellow curvy queen, and a Latina like myself, she was also a woman who was unapologetically herself, and that influenced my self-esteem level. Then there was Nadia Aboulhosn, Tanesha Awasthi, and Ashley Graham, women who made a living blogging about being powerful plus sized women in the world. So I started adopting their attitudes about how to love this body, my body.
Although it has been a long, strenuous journey, it has been successful. It is still very much in progress at the moment. I encourage girls who feel insecure to follow these women on social media, to read how they are shaking up the fashion industry, one voluptuous step at a time.
