One of These Things is not like the Others

Warning: This is a wordy post, but if you stick with me, I promise a Star Wars reference…  You in?  Fabulous.  Let the words commence.

So, I am usually pretty comfortable with my body.  I know I’ve anthropomorphized my thighs into militant rebels, but, in truth, they’re pretty great.  And I do have a bit of a tummy, but, like Bruce Willis’ girlfriend in Pulp Fiction, I think a bit of a potbelly is kind of sexy.  I used to be, as a boy in third grade said to me, “like Main Street, no curves” but now I’m more like Mulholand and outside the occasional freak out, like when my HMO says I’m fat, I’m comfortable being curvier.  Usually.

There are times, however, when I’m not as comfortable.  Last Saturday night was one of those times.  I’m not proud of it, but it is sometimes hard for me to maintain my confidence in my shape when I know I’m going to be around women of a completely different shape.  On Saturday night, we went to a party, but before that we had a “girl’s night” at a bar with a bunch of my friend Jenny’s friends.  Jenny is my height, but a few sizes smaller than I am.  And all of her friends are about a foot shorter and really quite petite.

Knowing I was going to be the only person built like I am, I felt like I could do one of two things; I could try to fit in by wearing what I knew everyone else would be wearing, or I could be myself.  There is definitely, I think, some appeal to wearing something similar to the people you’re with; it can help you feel like you’re part of the group.  But, for me, that never quite works.  I always feel like an impostor.

So, instead of trying to fit in, I chose to exaggerate my differentness.  They say to play to your strengths and to highlight your favorite part of your body, right?  Well, my favorite thing about my body is its size.  I love the fact that I’m tall and broad-shouldered and highly visible.  I know that my size draws attention to me and I figured if I'm going to be seen, I'm going to be seen:

To that end, I went for champagne and cream when I knew most everybody else would be in black.  I went for a longer skirt when I knew most everyone else would be in hoo-ha grazing hemlines.  And I went for a higher neck when I knew most everyone else would have cleavage.  I wore a vintage, champagne-colored dress paired with a cream, vintage fur vest (thrifted).  I added my animal print booties (80%20), a studded belt (Michael Michael Kors via Nordstrom) and ton of jewelry:

The earrings are vintage (Lil’ Gypsy Boutique) and the necklace is new (ModCloth).  The bangles and bracelets are a mix of vintage and new.


I also added a vintage (thrifted) gold clutch:

And I loved it.  I loved the fact that it wasn’t like anything anyone else was wearing and that even though it had next to no color, it was still me. Well, it was a little bit me, and a little bit Princess Leia, apparently.  True story, a guy at the party said I looked like Princess Leia.  I responded that I felt like Princess Leia, on Planet Hoth.  He said I was hot.  I laughed.  

Gracey