I answered 3 simple questions and it appears that Shabby Apple has captured the essence of my exact build.
I am amazed.
When asked, I will usually describe myself as a potato on toothpicks, or something along this line of thought. (And by ‘myself’ I mean my physical shape in this instance.) A marshmallow on 4 skewers. Etc… I happen to be quite fine with this assessment when I have been diligently working out and not pregnant in the last year. However, not all articles of clothing complement my figure to its potential.
Yes. I am vain enough, conceited enough, or perhaps merely well-adjusted enough to be comfortable seeing the potential in dressing myself appropriately for my body type.
As I was saying, some garments, while very attractively arranged on model-esque mannequins, when donned by yours truly, resemble shapeless potato sacks (how appropriate to dress a potato with a potato sack! hehe), or cause my hinder parts to expand to monstrous proportions. Or depict me as a house on stilts in the tropics. When I am clearly not expecting a flood. At other times, an outfit, when pieced together improperly, has been known to accentuate my midsection until it resembles a spare tire, a doughnut, or some other round and/or bulbous item or object.
This is unacceptable to me.
I mentioned briefly my supposed vanity. If the barn needs paintin’… Well, you get the point. Landscape architects arrange foliage and fauna to best emphasize, flatter, and accentuate the beauty of a building and its accompanying piece of property, as well as camouflage and mask any undesirable aspects of said real estate.
Being in the postpartum phase for the 3rd time in as many years, I have come most assuredly to grips with the fact that I will never fit every item Target has to sell me in the way of clothing. Nor will Old Navy or Gap always garb me properly. Wearing an item with confidence will only get me so far. Let’s face it: that rule applies more to color and pattern combinations. I cannot deny the way I am built merely because I believe that the wrong style looks fabulous on me. I also do not have Stacy and Clinton in my back pocket. That would be highly uncomfortable for all 3 of us whenever I sat down. I do my best to maintain the purest version of my shape by working out and when appropriate (read: not pregnant or breastfeeding), portion control.
All that to say this: the purest form of my individual body type (round object supported by skinny objects) is flattered only by specific combinations of cut and lay of material. I happen to think that when dressed right, I am part of the beauty of God’s creation that people may stop to admire.
Apparently, they agree with me. Having never seen me, they have suggested dresses they think will best suit my uniquely proportioned frame.
“Style icon: Catherine Zeta-Jones”
I can live with that.
Now, all that is left to do is put them to the test. I shall convince my husband that his hard-earned money would best be spent adorning me in accordance with the Shabby Apple idea of what is right for me. Which I will then replicate, to the best of my ability at the aforementioned places of business catering to the need to clothe oneself.
And not get pregnant for a while.
(Which, when managed for a whole year or more deserves a reward of some kind. Prehaps a tattoo…)