BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Category Archives: NaBloPoMo


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Love Those Boots

Love the style

Love the style

I’m super excited to post about something totally frivolous and silly. Boots. In my former life as a person who lived in the Great Lakes region, there was nothing silly about boots. Boots were a necessity, and, like most people there I had good ones.

Over the years, I had L.L. Bean boots and Timberland boots and various other boots to keep my tootsies dry and toasty warm. That is not an easy task when you’re plunging your feet into snowbanks and slogging across slushy parking lots. Those boots had to WORK.

Now, however, I have no such issues. I don’t need boots. I live in the desert Southwest. Oh, sure, hiking boots (you know, for those challenging hikes I’m always taking), but real boots? Nope. But what about fashion?

Fashion? Boots? Fat woman? I’ve heard that it’s possible, but I wasn’t convinced. That is, until last year when I happened across a really cute pair of ankle boots at Lane Bryant. They were hip. They were fun. They were comfortable. They were reasonably priced. They’re currently in my closet.

I really like those boots. I wear them and enjoy them. I even feel pretty stylish in them. Who would have thought?

Then today, something really odd happened. I went shopping. For clothes. Bras, to be exact, if you must know. Why is that odd? Because I seriously dislike clothes shopping, thank you very much. I was alone, though, and had some time between appointments, and found myself near a Lane Bryant store, so I stopped in.

As I felt myself being pulled to the legging display, Alma, the sales associate, welcomed me and informed me that the entire store was on sale for 40% off. Really? 40%? That’s pretty good, I thought, as I grabbed  a pair of leggings to try on. I continued to wander the store, and spied a great looking pair of boots. Real boots, not ankle boots.

They would look great with the leggings, I thought. They would be perfect with a skirt, I thought. They would be useful on my upcoming winter vacation, I thought. They’re 40% off, I thought. They’re currently in my closet, getting to know the ankle boots.

I love these boots. I love that they’re stylish, that they didn’t cost a fortune, and that they’re comfortable. The thing I love most, though, is that they’re made for women like me. They have an elasticized panel in the back so they can be easily worn by women who have a little (or a lot of) extra calf to cover. They are the first boots I have worn successfully in years.

The last time I went looking for a pair of real boots I ended up buying a pair that was too big and slouching them down since they wouldn’t go over my calves. I was desperate since I was heading to snow country, and time and budget limitations forced me to settle for those awful boots. I donated them as soon as I returned from that trip. Not this time. This time I have a beautiful, stylish pair that I can enjoy. Thank you Lane Bryant, you made my day.


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So Much Hatred

I try to add images to my blog posts that will capture the spirit of the writing. Occasionally I use my own photos, but most of the time I use images that I find online. A quick search will usually unearth several options from which to choose. Often my search terms are a bit unusual, but I still get images that will work for my article. Recently, however, that wasn’t the case.

I wanted to find something appropriate for yesterday’s post on fat and fashion, but I didn’t what I was looking for. Let me tell you what I did find. First there were beautiful models and bloggers and various other fat girls and women. They are the ones who make fashion and fat work together. They had on cute dresses, short skirts, leggings, blouses, swimwear, and lingerie. Their hair was done, their makeup was perfect, and most of them looked adorable. They just weren’t quite what I was looking for.

I expanded my search terms and that’s when I got back results I never expected. Sure I know there are jerks on the internet. I believe that people with jerk tendencies get way jerkier when they hide behind their keyboards, and the stuff I stumbled across seemed to confirm this theory.

What I came across was the FA war. I didn’t even know there was such a thing, but sadly there is. What is FA, you ask? Fat Acceptance. Now I don’t claim to be an expert on this “movement” if that’s what it is, but my understanding of it is this, fat people want to be accepted for who they are. At least that’s the simple explanation. Now that seems not only reasonable, but it seems perfectly logical to me. In fact, if you take off the word “fat” and just say people want to be accepted for who they are, I think most people would agree. It stands to reason, then, that any kind of people would want that same acceptance: fat people, gay people, disabled people, elderly people, left-handed people, vegan people, whatever… So why do so many people hate them?

Yes, I said hate. Yes, I know it’s a strong word, but some of what I saw was way stronger than that. Here were these people posting pictures and messages of self-acceptance and other people were completely bashing them, spewing all sorts of verbal venom. Frankly I found it disturbing. What kind of person refers to a stranger as a “moronic sea cow?” One who’s not very nice, that’s for sure.

I’m in favor of returning to the golden rule. Don’t agree with someone? That’s fine. Express your opinion, but be respectful.


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Nobody Looks at the Fat Chick Anyway

suitcaseI’m going out of town, to a family event. There are religious services involved, and at least two family celebrations. It’s back east, where the weather is colder and the events tend to be more formal. I just packed.

The last family event was my niece’s Bat Mitzvah, four months ago. It was summertime, so it wasn’t quite as dressy as an autumn event, but the daytime portion of the program was still a dress up affair. The evening party was advertised as casual, but really nobody wore what I would consider to be truly casual clothes. I wore a cute skirt and top, and was very comfortable with my choice. I didn’t even cringe when I saw the pictures the photographer snapped of me.

This weekend, however, is a different story. First of all, I don’t have a huge dress up wardrobe. A simple dress is about as dressy as I usually get, plus I have a couple of skirts and jackets that occasionally get pressed into service. Secondly, I’m currently the size of a small nation. I’ve gained weight since the last family event, and I’m dreading seeing my mother and hearing whatever “loving” comments she’ll make about it. I feel like a blob, and I feel like nothing fits me. I caught sight of my reflection in the window the other night eating dinner, and frankly I was taken aback. I’m huge. In fact, I’m terrified that when I board the plane in a few hours I’ll have to request a seatbelt extender for the first time in my life.

As I faced the empty suitcase I sucked in a breath and dove in. I mentally rehearsed several outfits, and even tried on a few blouses that I thought were iffy. Finally it dawned on me that nobody expects the fat chick to look good anyway, so why was I making myself crazy over this?

C’mon, you know it’s true. If you’re a big fat person like me, that’s all people really see. They don’t care that you’re dressed well or poorly, unless you’re off the charts on either end of the spectrum. Since I’m not going out shopping with a stylist (but wouldn’t that be great? My own personal episode of What Not to Wear!) and I’m not planning on turning into a hobo between now and my flight time, I have to be satisfied with what I have.

No, I won’t be the best dressed woman there, but I won’t be the worst dressed either, I’m sure. I put in some decent separates, and decided that I would make my final wardrobe decision just before each event. My family will be happy to see me for me, and the strangers in the room will only see the fat girl anyway, so it’s time to quit worrying.