I used to be very judgmental of women for what they wore:
You’re dressing too young. You aren’t a little girl.
You don’t look professional. No one will take you seriously.
Those leggings aren’t doing anything for your figure.
That shirt looks trashy; it’s way too tight.
Don’t you think those heels are a little too high?
No one needs their ass bedazzled.
Want to know the truth? To some extent, I still have these thoughts pop up from time to time. Upon reflection, I am not 100% sure why I feel this way. It’s divisive. It’s anti-feminist. It’s body-shaming. I am pretty sure it is rooted in my own body insecurity. I am working on loving my body, but why do I need to sacrifice the self-esteem of others in the process?
I spend a lot of time on Reddit trying to figure out the whole anti-body-acceptance philosophy, and I frequently see people trying to justify their viewpoint, saying that they aren’t against fat people. They are against “stupid” fat people. Health deniers. Hambeasts who proclaim that there isn’t anything wrong with being “deathfat”, etc. Essentially, there are different kinds of fat people: ones that love their body and don’t see societal pressure as a reason to change, and those who dislike themselves and their body and see their self-worth in terms of how far they are willing to go to adjust their bodies to meet the societal norm, including clothing oneself in such a way as to keep their bodies from bothering others aesthetically.
Poisonous, right? I have been actively working on culling the latter attitude from my personality. I don’t know exactly when I changed my purview. I have been firmly in the “wear whatever the hell you want” camp for a couple of years now, because I know now that it is the ethical, social, and empathic right thing to do. Was it a gradual change? Was it precipitated by my fluctuating weight? Cultural minority studies?
Nope. I think it’s when I discovered leggings.
Many people who know me can confirm that on many an occasion, I proclaimed “leggings are not pants”. Saying it now, I feel like a prude. True, leggings are not pants. They are leggings. But what does that mean, exactly? That leggings shouldn’t be worn? Are they too risqué? Are they unflattering? Are they okay for thin people, but not for fat people? If so, why? Is there something inherently more acceptable about a thin person’s body so that they can wear leggings without judgement? Or is it just slut-shaming?
One day, I bought myself a pair of leggings. They are AMAZING. I wear them with dresses. I wear them with shirts. I wear them with heels and I wear them with boots. I bought more leggings. They are comfortable. They make me feel like a superhero. They spoke to me. They told me I was wrong for assigning value to someone’s clothing. Clothing is expression. Clothing is comfort. Clothing is an extension of one’s personality. Who am I to censor that?
I see this picture, and I feel good about myself. Maybe a year ago, I would have seen something different. Now, I see a confident person, a person who feels good about themselves, at least most of the time. Nowadays, I read articles about what a woman SHOULDN’T wear, what is unflattering, what is inappropriate. I feel bad for the authors of those articles, because I empathize. I know where words like “shouldn’t” and “can’t” are rooted. I know the insecurity that comes with such words.
All of this brings me to the subject of rompers.
What is a romper? Put simply, it is a one-piece article of clothing that is essentially a pair of shorts sewn onto a top. Think summertime speed-suit.
According to the internet, they are uniformly ugly, unflattering, and definitely not designed for fat bodies. In the before-time, I would have nodded vigorously, agreeing with the romper-haters, echoing the sentiment. But you know what? I’ve looked them up and think they are pretty cute. So cute, in fact, that I might order one and wear it out with sandals and a cardigan. Why? Fuck you, that’s why. I’ll wear whatever I goddamn please, and so should you.