I have my mother’s body. I’m thankful for it because it’s cool that from ring size to flip flop, we can share everything.
On the down side, I gain unwelcome weight in my love handles and my large boobs make my torso look like a square. A sexy square, but totally a square.
I have always struggled to find flattering jeans because most of them are low-rise and that style doesn’t work for me. Thanks a lot, Mom.
I realized that when I’m in a dressing room, I can turn into a monster who feeds off of insults about the women who CAN fit in the jeans.
"You would have to have the body of a little boy to fit in these. Jeggings are ridiculous and I hate everyone who wears them."
One of my good friends recently mentioned how she felt body shamed when someone was rude to her because she’s naturally small, and I was like “what kind of inconsiderate, rude, undignified jerk would insult your body?”
And then I was like “Oh, me, in every American Eagle Outfitters ever.”
I am adapting the new mind set: “Hey, this doesn’t fit me. End of thought. Let’s try Guess.” Because that seems like a more appropriate amount of energy to put into shopping for pants.