As repeatedly publicized, I have this on-going royal rumble with weight. While that may possibly be my lifelong cancer, I don't let it mess with this lifestyle I'm consistently trying to make normal. Let's just say, I'm not your ordinary fat girl. There are numerous things I can do, that most biggies can't (indian-sitting, hand-standing, and finger-licking, to name a few). But most notably, I've always been commended for taking risks, clothing-wise, and how I tweak each get-up to suite a 200-pounder.
When I was in high school, I had always been the fat girl who can't dress. Elephant pants + baggy shirts = the black dude in me. My sexual orientation was even questioned a couple of times. Like, did I really look like a boy? I had braids!! Oh shoot. Basketball players have braids. Snoop doggy dog has braids. So... yeah, fuck, I guess I really did look like a butch. Moreover, affirming the popular myth, my kind of fashion, or lack thereof, back then was unfortunately clueless. I was too preoccupied with pool that I didn't even notice I was slowly looking like my Idol. Only with teeth.
Good thing, I got kicked out. Not that it was an event in my life I can be thankful for (although being dubbed as the "rebel" was kinda cool, ohhh, stop, shussh!!!) but it paved way for me to stick out of that exhausting bubble. I discovered that being fat isn't reason enough to stagnate my take on things, and unmodify my life. I started to LOVE shopping, picking clothes that aren't cousins of trash bags, and make total abuse of under-utilized Fat Fashion stores. But here's the thing. Despite already dressing up like a woman, my new sense of style anyhow flummoxed people who saw me everyday, especially my mom, who simply doesn't get it, and my brother, who thinks I look like a fortune teller each time I dress up.
NOTE: Picture on your left was captured while shopping, inside my fitting room. I know, who takes a picture of herself while dressing up, right? But I just thought I'd supply you with evidence. Half-naked snapshots reserved for MySpace. *wink, wink*
Silly prints, huge dangling earrings, outstretched necklaces, and long crinkle skirts make up my usually unfathomable fashion. Years of sporting the style, nobody has come up to me and complimented how I looked. Until that particular Thursday in school. It's college, nobody would care! Brittany, who has weird but cool taste in clothes herself (*mean girl syndrome* honestly, more on the weird side, but she's blonde and pretty anyway, won't hurt her one bit), proves that overused statement on a daily basis. So I braved the anticipated naysayers and ditched the common jock outfit (sweatshirt + jeans + chucks), and geared up my inner boho.
And let me tell you, I've never been SO flattered in my life.
By my professors, by classmates I don't even talk to, and even by this random woman I shared the same elevator ride with. It was such an Ugly Duckling moment. But whatever, it's been a loooooooooooong time since somebody, unrelated to me, said I looked pretty. *rosy cheeks surge* Trust me, ladies. There's nothing like that feeling of comfotably being yourself, in the superficial public, and actually be showered by overwhelming compliments.
I don't really talk fashion here, but since I'm at it, I might as well share a couple of reminders to all my ladies (and no, I'm not talking to you, sexy bitch!).
• Clothes for plus-sized women cost a lot. Wherever you go, even if you're from Bhutan, clothes for fat people, in general, are excessively expensive. So, as much as possible, stay away from the malls. They have ridiculously beautiful (and branded, but who gives a fuck about brands) stuff in there, but awfully mind-boggling price tags. You may want to try local boutiques, they offer reasonably, and you can even get a pretty good discount if you fill out a couple of carts.
• If you're the extra-extra (or even another extra) large type of biggie, don't be shy and look for that elusive 5x mark. America's obesity epidemic is severely disseminated not to have additional Xs in their dress sizes.
• Gather as much clothes as you can when you fit. It won't hurt trying all at once, while it will going back and forth. Although that's exercise, I won't encourage you to do that. Leave the sweating off the clothes. Please.
• Don't buy clothes and shoes from the internet. Period.
• Be confident. I'm not sure why I'm saying this, because I never intend to be your counselor in any way to begin with, but let me be nice for just one second... You can hear this from a lot of [mature] guys, and trust me when I say that they actually mean it (for once in their fuckin' lives, they're saying something true). Feeling like you're pretty and sexy and knowing that you're pretty AND sexy (yeah, I said it) are two different things. Go figure.
• And most importantly, assure yourself that you're beautiful. Don't dress up, wear make-up, bathe in cologne, just because you want to please your husband, boyfriend, teacher (well, some do that), etc. But do it for yourself. I won't say the inside and out thing, 'coz that's just worn, but every person's made to be beautiful. It's all up to you now to rejuvenate that inert pizazz. *snaps*