Diary of a self-indulgent plus sized girl
“Look at her, she is fat and I really don’t understand why she wears a lot of make-up, like it covers her flab”
Envisaging this vindictive buzz from one of the Mean Girls would seem genuine. But this was the real world churlish girl who stood at an ambit in the lavatory of my college. I walked out with a frail attempt at forgetting her comment. On my way to class I wondered why these utopian looking dolls had to have an opinion on every damn thing.
For me it’s always been an indulgent choice between constant treats of scrumptious food and buying gorgeous clothes and stilettos or staying home bestirring over raw veggies after an hour’s worth of exercise. And I always prefer the former.
I enjoy every bit of felicity that comes from walking up to a divinely lit ensemble store and savouring the tasteful bliss of searching for the ideal clothes and embellishments. But as a plus size girl, I really whim that people knew the other side of the story! But we often come across naive and ignorant peers, and I suppose it’s not their fault. Long gone are the days where big was beautiful; notorious brands like Chanel, Dolce and Gabbana, or Valentino for that matter have always eschewed from making a plus size line. The availability of couture for size fourteen’s and above seemed nearly futile, or if there was a slightest hint, the faux pas of corked alternatives doomed the morale of most plus size young women. Walk past a store and you would find sheer disappointment, from mannequins to saleswomen, all seem to be mocking your very singularity.
Each class passed by, with the morning incident shuddering over me, and then I met a close friend of mine. Delphic, I thought, as I hurried to get some reassuring feedback.
“Do men also think that only thin girls are beautiful?” I asked with the utter desperation of hearing what I needed to at the moment.
“Yea, umm not that plus size women are ugly, it’s just that……
I sighed and ignored what he wanted to say. Nothing like a man trying to bolster you with false reasoning! And therefore I walked home with a wimpy mood. I came home, and skipped lunch (and then you blame bulimia and anorexia on the media, real world is mean enough). After a while a close girlfriend of mine called up.
She was exactly the opposite, slender and a svelte beauty yet she found trouble with fitting in. Sometimes we find comfort in conflicting folks. Both of us so different, yet the issues we dealt with were sardonically parallel.
It isn’t about boys, or fellow girls always wagering our peace everywhere we went. It was about the limited choices, it was about the compromise we had to make when it came to friends, boyfriends and even clothes. We gossiped about how the girls in her class made it impossible for her to wear the new ‘uncool’ glasses she had bought and I told her about my pathetic morning. For an hour we just talked, and then found just the right intent for both of us.
We decided to go shopping!
Walking through the mall and experiencing the ecstasy in finding spot on clothes, accessories and shoes, that ensued my day in better direction. It was easy to value the brands that kept all sizes, and whose sales women didn’t act as preachers, but instead, focused on genuinely doing their job.
We walked through Debenhams, Topshop, New Look, H&M, and BHS. Some stores were mediocre, some very embracing. So we strolled up to stores that were all smiles, the sales women were least bothered as to who we were and how we looked; instead they were tremendously obliging. There was no chance of us plausibly entering a Valentino or Dior store, intrinsically we couldn’t afford it and even if we were adept of that; the choices would scarcely be on hand.
There was an exceeding acumen, the fashion world was biased when it came to making plus sized clothes. A few brands have produced plus size lines, but with a fear of losing their size zero gimmicks, plus size has never received the same acceptance commercially. And there is always a rattle; we are always ‘labelled’ the extended sizes, something that never ‘fits in’ with their version ordinary. So I acknowledge what fashion’s annotation of beauty is. yet I still believe there are people who endorse reality. Trendy eye pleasing images will always glom the spotlight but clothes are not worn only because they are in Vogue. Clothes are an extension of our persona, mores, and mannerisms.
If audacious high-end fashion is supposed to be enjoyed by a particular body type, then so be it. There is so much a plus size woman can do better than demurring about the cruelties of fashion. I was self-indulgent, I adored scrutinizing everything be it strappy gowns, or a petite black dress, from long chromatic pants to hues of different blouses. When it came to shoes, stilettos and wedges were my best friends. From Blake Lively to Katy Perry, I could achieve the guise just accurate and with a lot of creativity.
So in the real world we walked out of the store with bags full of gorgeous clothes, chic heels, and with a dash of colourful lavalieres. Two perfectly flawed girls in an imperfect perky world.