Anila Shirtdress Summer OOTD

I have a problem with clothing trends right now. I should disclose that it is my conscious decision to have a problem with clothes rather than with my own body shape (and its apparent incompatibility with the clothes). At the moment, the clothes "on trend" are fads that I lived through the first time around as a teenager (and therefore feel too old to revisit), "comfort" chic styles that feel too much like pajamas to wear in public,  or billowy sacks designed presumably to make one marvel over the juxtaposition of the wearer's litheness when compared to said billowy sack. I can't wear any of it to work. And I can't really wear any of it outside of work... at least not without feeling foolish due to the trifecta of my age, my body type, and my status as a mom.

But dressing in the summer has always confounded me, especially when it comes to work. We're in the beginning of summer so I have no sense of outfit rhythm and still feel terribly exposed without tights and layers. Every day I cycle through outfit options, disapproving of choice after choice. It's even worse on the days when I have to go to campus.

I am fortunate in that my job is not rigid in dress code and my summer work can often be done from home. But I am still serving on committees. I am still part of the campus community which doesn't halt during the summer. So there are plenty of occasions to go to work on campus. I just never know what to wear. It would be easier if all my summer clothes fit but I am carrying extra weight due to stress.

Social media are abuzz singing the praises of summer and I am glad for the vitamin D but this is my least favorite season for dressing. Thank goodness life is about more than clothes!

Outfit details:
Anila shirtdress from Anthropologie (old)
Spanx tights (probably one of my last days to wear until fall)
MBMJ punk mouse flats (on sale in black)

Self-image in the reflection of my daughter

As I continue to recover from pregnancy and birth, I find myself feeling surprisingly positive. My body has changed for sure. I accept that it (much like life) will never be the same in ways both positive and negative. That was a part of the deal struck when my partner and I decided to plan our family. But it's hard to be overly critical of a body that grew, birthed (albeit with interventions), and nourished my healthy baby girl. It's hard also to harbor the same mixed feelings about my physical appearance -- those ones that plagued me as an adolescent and early post-adolescent -- when everyone says that baby girl looks just like me. She has such a sweet, lovable, curious face. Her face  indeed resembles my own baby photos closely. I cringe at the thought of her being hard on herself about her looks as she matures. And when I think about the overly critical, appearance-obsessed world in which she will grow, I worry.

There was and still is something validating about the fact that my younger sister and I look so alike. Even though I can be hard on myself, I think she's gorgeous. And I feel the same way about my daughter. My heart breaks at the thought of her or my sister being so self-critical. So why should I be  hard on myself? It sets a bad example and it just doesn't add up! It also makes me wish I hadn't put my own parents through the ringer with my own adolescent self-criticism. The idea that Emilia might someday find fault with a visage that I find so beautiful is kind of devastating.

The outfit above was my trying out options for Valentine's Day. Although the wrap fits, I know it would look way better if I steamed it and put it on over tights. It's too cold to wear it sans tights anyway and even though I'm 10 weeks postpartum I still really like the added support from control top. Still, trying stuff on without Spanx helps me keep perspective on where my body is at the moment. 

Outfit details:
DVF Greer in spring shadows print
Bravado tank underneath
MBMJ pumps
RedEnvelope necklace (c/o)

Shape of a Century

I've been thinking a great deal about my own changing shape as a result of these final days of pregnancy and noticed some similarities to the above iconic line drawings.

I'm currently teaching a class on the history of advertising in America and we just wrapped a unit on the glamour industries who marketed beauty and fashion to women in the twentieth century. As an introduction to the unit (during which we read Joan Jacobs Brumberg and Kathy Peiss) I went over some iconic decade-specific trends in clothing that, according to Brumberg encouraged women to prioritize (or turn into "projects"/works in progress) specific parts of their bodies based on what was emphasized as most desirable. It was interesting to take students from the "trends" of the Gilded Age all the way through the emergence of bikinis and bare midriffs.

One of my favorite aspects of the subjects I teach is that process of defamiliarization, during which the masked ideological curriculum embedded into the mundane or the taken-for-granted can be revealed through a process of historiography. To expose that ideological power can be amplified via perceived innocuousness and has purpose as well as influence is as challenging as it is rewarding. We talked about the Gibson Girl, the flapper, military influences on clothing, the New Look, mini skirts, and more. So when I came upon this infographic from the UK brand, Marisota, I had fun comparing their abbreviated history of how notions of beauty have shifted with fashion and popular culture to my own visual lecture presentation. You can see it Marisota's infographic well as their accompanying narrative after the jump.

Emphasizing the shape of things

When the Bailey 44 column dresses were finally seeing markdowns at Anthropologie (cap sleeved here; tank here; scrolled here), it was just too hard to resist. I ordered what was available that seemed like it could fit a pregnant body without factoring in that 1. I don't really wear BRIGHT RED and 2. I don't really know if I want to "show" that much of myself. Being pregnant gives some women more body confidence than ever before because the body is doing remarkable things. But for me, on many of my more emotional days, my body feels unrecognizable. When your wardrobe is cultivated to emphasize a relatively small waist (the way the bulk of my pre-pregnancy clothes are), it can be a little disorienting to watch your waist change so much in such a relatively short time frame.

So in many ways, my Bailey 44 buy was an experiment. Incidentally, I was able to track down one of the purple versions which I tried and reviewed a while ago. But the red went back. I'm too much of a wallflower to pull it off, pregnant or not. We'll see if I wear the purple while my stomach continues to grow. If not, I am confident it will be a great piece for next fall!

Missing my former favorites

It is fruitless to lament the loss of my pre-pregnant body, especially when I have no way to anticipate how/where things will wind up, post-partum. But I do miss my "regular" summer clothes. If it is hard now, the fall might be impossible! And I am not even a person who really likes summer clothing.

Here are some examples of what I would be wearing if my stomach didn't protrude more and more, each day:

Hopefully my enthusiasm for these pieces will provide incentive to return to some semblance of what I regard to be my "normal" (imperfect, curvy, but confident in my own skin). I didn't anticipate having my body image complicated by pregnancy but I also didn't realize how destabilizing it would feel to surrender control to the space of (necessary) body transitions. Don't get me wrong. I am happy that my body is doing what it needs to, in order to accommodate a developing fetus. But I would be denying my own (admitted) vanity to feign complete ambivalence. Are there any "been there, done that" folks who felt similarly?

My first actual "maternity" clothing ootd

If maternity wear has ever been a genre of clothing relevant to your sartorial interests, you already know it can be pretty atrocious. Polyester reigns supreme, even within a few of the more "upscale" lines (Hatch Collection, I'm looking at you!). Garish prints are metered out often, perhaps to distract and disorient the pregnant body's onlookers. Outside of fast fashion retailers, prices tend to reflect manufacturers' awareness of the realities of a very limited marketplace and increasing consumer necessity. As your body grows, your options for "regular" people clothing narrow. Every day it feels like I try on a dozen things that used to fit (generously!). And each day as my choices diminish in inverse proportion to my waistline, I become increasingly desperate for comfortable but decent looking options.

I have had some luck with seasonal, summery, "regular people" pieces because of the ubiquity of stretchy cotton fabrics and maxi lengths. Earlier into things, I bought a few dresses that were sized up from my pre-pregnancy needs to help me get through the in-between. But I know I won't be able to do that forever. I didn't start off tiny and I doubt that my pregnancy will be one where I can wear "regular" clothes on a body that is adorably "all belly." I envy those women who start at a physical space and carry their pregnancies in ways that enable them to wear regular clothing through the third trimester. But I don't anticipate that I will be among them.

So I find myself browsing for research and my own impending sartorial needs. Overall, I feel really underwhelmed by the maternity clothing I've encountered online and in person. Granted, I have decided that temporary clothing is not where I prefer to invest my wardrobe budget, so I haven't seriously pursued the fanciest lines. I did buy the above dress in two colorways from ASOS*.

When I wear it I still feel like me. It has room to grow but doesn't scream "maternity." And I welcome more recommendations from the been-there-done-that and/or currently-there-currently-doing-that crowd!

Details:
ASOS maternity striped knit dress (in the other colorway here and here)
Chloé flats (current season double strap offerings here)
Alviero Martini bag (mine is vintage)

*a lot of the summer clothing (regular, plus, maternity, etc.) is on sale at ASOS and with code 10SALE you can get another 10% off (sale on sale!).

P.S. don't forget to enter the Apothica/SkincareRX/Skinbotanica giveaway! There are only a few entries and only a few days left to win!

P.P.S. you can follow my pregnancy musings by going here.

Wear the Flattering Shift (or not!)

Megan of the Pittsburgh-based, tech-savvy, made-to-measure clothing start-up, Wear the Shift posted a smart followup to the entry I wrote a few weeks back about my rejection of the discourse of flattering. I encourage you to check it out! And I thank her for the link love! It makes me feel really flattered (pun intended) to have provoked additional thoughts about the subject.

On the discourse of "flattering" continued…

Wearing an unflattering 3.1 Phillip Lim dress

I wore it here also, the last time I wrote about this very subject!

Recently, I've received some prescriptive feedback about flattering clothing as well as the occasional insult about my shape. This is to be expected and I'm not posting about it with the hopes that other readers will rescue me from anything. I am an adult who is confident in my appearance and my intellect. Obviously (and despite the unquestionable vanity in keeping a photo-heavy personal shopping and wardrobe blog) my appearance is not the only source from where I derive my value as a human being. Furthermore, I believe that criticism is a valuable tool when used effectively. We don't have to agree all the time. Civility might be a plus on occasion, but I also realize that the wheels of social progression were not pushed forward with polite conversation. So I am not of the opinion that we all should be nice to each other all the time.

Notions about what "flatters" a figure are subjective and individual. We all have different tastes and we all have been inundated with messages from the fashion and beauty industries as well as the mass media about how a woman *should* look. We all know the "rules" say that for women, dressing to flatter consists of making the body appear as small and/or thin as possible. Conventional wisdom tells us to be diminutive and small; to achieve thinness by any means necessary, even if doing so means sacrificing health and happiness. I don't claim immunity from any of the above influences. In fact, I've written here and elsewhere about the struggle to find peace in body acceptance. I wear Spanx tights regularly. And there are some days when I *do* try to dress in a way that flatters, in that narrow, traditional sense.

I also believe in health at any size. I reject the discourse of flattering for its inherent sizeism as well as its sexism. Trying to ensure women take up as little space in the world as possible is only one of many ways to minimize our social value and cultural input. Aesthetics are not universal. And beauty standards are not prescriptions to which we have to adhere. Taste, style, and fashion are moving targets that hold different meanings for different people within different social, political, and historical contexts. The Body Project by Joan Jacobs Brumberg takes a historical and cultural approach to the study of this very subject. And Sal of Already Pretty blogs regularly, with intellect, respect, and confidence about these very ideas.

My own notion of what flatters is contextual and malleable. It changes depending on my mood, my physical state, my self esteem, my tasks for that day, etc. I don't tend to focus on wearing only the outfits that hug the narrowest part of my body. I don't tend to dress in a way that provokes traditional "sex appeal." I don't lament that my body isn't model thin or model tall. It never has been. It never will be. I still like my body and am grateful that it is able and relatively healthy. I am glad that it hasn't changed much since I began upgrading my wardrobe because I also really like my clothes and want to continue to make use of them. I am not willing to constantly forgo comfort, stability, or practicality in the name of beauty. And I invite you to disagree with me about it.

On wearing tight dresses

Black Halo Jackie O dress

(in black or pink)

Chies

(Disregard my bedhead and lack of make up. I snapped these like Cher from Clueless to get an idea of how I'd look. 

When I feel insecure it's as though mirrors can't be trusted).

As the overwhelming majority of my outfits indicate, I tend to avoid clingy silhouettes on my lower half. I'd rather put on a tent dress that creates a potato-esque shape than wear something that hugs me all over. But tonight I am going with some friends to a place I wouldn't normally go. And both the scene and the dress code indicate that I would fit with the crowd if I wore something tight. Although my body image is usually sound, I'm also human. And on occasion (on a bad self esteem day) the mere thought of wearing something tight on my lower half gives me a pang of panic. My body insecurities stem mostly from the span of my hips and thighs, both of which are functional (making my irrationality feel even more silly when I confront it and think it through). In fact the realization that every bathing suit I'd buy would still expose those parts led me to start wearing bikinis (despite inhabiting what most would deem a decidedly un-bikini body). Realizing my own irrationality makes me interested in wearing this dress. Of course, it's possible that I will cave and wear a girlie, comfortingly full skirt. Still the opportunity to break out of my comfort zone is tempting.

I  bought this dress a few years ago when I was feeling relatively body confident. Although my shape hasn't changed that much in the interim, I never wore it out of my house. It's so silly to hang on to something because you like the idea of it more so than how it looks on you. But I can't get rid of this dress. I altered its length to my body. And I *want* to feel like it is something I can wear, regardless of the number on the scale or the size on the tag. I believe in health at any size. And I know if I saw another woman wearing it, I would think "hot dress!" It is just that I have never been the kind of gal who wears hot dresses. Plus wearing it would be in defiance of "the rules" for dressing a body my size. Rules with which I strongly disagree. Rules that make women of all sizes feel inadequate. I want to be the sort of person who is comfortable defying rules that make women feel irrationally bad about their able and healthy bodies. But can the mere act of wearing a dress (that, lets face it, conforms to sexy and even sexist standards) even accomplish such a thing? I know I am over thinking. But that is my way...

Are there shapes and silhouettes to which you gravitate or favor in your dressing? If given an occasion to try something new with little risk (beyond the confrontation of your own admittedly irrational hangups), would you take it? And can the act of wearing a tight dress on a non-model frame do anything more than conform to/confirm ideals that are sexist anyway?

Blogging and Body Image

When Galadarling requested blogger contributions on the subject of blogging and body image, I decided to up a brief submission.

I focused on that nagging urge to compare one's own body with others. A friend of mine once said that no matter how you feel about your body in any given moment, there will always be someone who wants to be the size you are right now. For me, that idea begins to put things into perspective. When I think of it in combination with the knowledge that I am never as critical or hard on others as I am on myself, I feel liberated from the need to be negative about my own body.

Here is what I wrote:

Much like socio-economic class, bodies have often been the elephant in the blogosphere dressing room. So few of us discuss the subject openly (though Sal of Already Pretty does a fantastic job raising awareness and promoting acceptance). Despite the large amounts of silence, bodies and body image can be a source of significant internal struggle for many women. When it comes to blogging and body image, we must resist comparisons. Many of us exist within a media environment where the impulse to compare “who wore it best” and to scrutinize the bodies of women have become reactive, knee-jerk entitlements, fostered through celebrity tabloid culture. It would be naive to disregard the ways that such thinking can trickle down into our ordering of everyday, non-celebrity bodies. But we must suppress those impulses for the good of ourselves and others.

One of the things that has helped me in my own resistance is to hold firm to my feminist beliefs. Just as I believe there is room in the fashion/style blogosphere for all types of styles, I believe there is also room for all types of bodies/shapes. With a positive attitude, I strive to be less hard on myself when it comes to my appearance. Although it might be difficult to remember while lurking in such an aesthetic realm, we are not the sum of how we look. Our blogs encompass brief glimpses of lives much more complex and much more dynamic than mere surfaces can deliver. I’ve learned to accept the aspects of my image that bred insecurities in my youth. In a way, this has become a side effect of active blogging. I work every day to unlearn judgmental impulses and the habitual need to self-scrutinize. I remind myself that when I read blogs, just as when I see women in my day to day life, I do not see their flaws. I try to extend myself the same kindness. Most of us are too caught up in our own responsibilities, challenges, and enjoyments to spend time picking others apart. But the decision to stop those impulses is exactly that: a decision. And paths to self acceptance are neither linear or smooth. There are good and bad days. But at the end of most of them, I realize that comparisons (based on what others have or how others look) are unproductive and unfruitful.

You can read the entire entry with the thoughts of many very smart, stylish ladies here. Thank you for including me and organizing submissions on this very important subject, Gala!

Bathing Suit Season and Body Anxieties

The cheapest maxi dress coverup I could find at Gabes

Chris in Buzios

Memorial Day marks the official opening of swimming pool season around these parts (though sadly for me but smartly for local families, the Pittsburgh city pools wait until the end of the public school year to open). Although I bought a bathing suit before my December trip to Brazil, I am always on the look out for swimwear that can support a bustier bosom. I've come to adore the Triumph For Your Curves brand (even if the name is silly) for their fun prints and wide range of bikini tops with underwire (sized like bras in a wide range of cup sizes, and everything!). I've also heard great things about the Figleaves in-house brands (Midnight Grace, etc.) and Freya, though I cannot speak to their longevity or support from personal experience. 

Although I have far from what most would consider a bikini body, I started wearing one within the last year or so. I decided that I was sick of tankinis (since I always pulled up the tank part of the top to sun worship) and one pieces (which made going to the bathroom a pain in the butt). I am no stranger to those body image issues that effect most of us. But I have come to feel relatively bold when it comes to swimwear, especially during out of town travel. It already helps when you are in a place where no one knows you except for your travel partner(s). But when you couple it with the relatively exposed swimwear culture of Brazil, I was even more confident running around, flabby body and all.

As examined in this entry from feminist fashion blogger Millie of Interrobangs Anonymous and posted on the website of MrsBossaDoesTheDo, vacations carry liberatory and experimental potential. An otherwise safe, static style identity can try new things without the watchfuls eyes of preconceived expectations. I wrote in the comments section:

There is something really liberating about being in a place where no one knows me (except the person with who I am traveling). Fewer expectations and fewer closet options mean that I am simultaneously less and more confined, if that makes sense. I don’t have to feel like I am dressing my usual “part” because I won’t see anyone who usually sees me but I have such a smaller range of options because I tend to try to pack lightly. 

One of my favorite things about traveling to Brazil last December was how completely body unconscious people were on the beaches. Granted, my boyshort bottoms had more coverage than most of the men’s trunks, but I found it really refreshing to see women of all ages and shapes and sizes wearing the tiniest of bikini styles without reservation. I wonder on some level if this is merely a product of availability? If swimsuit retailers there only sell tiny suits, then everyone has to wear them by default. But those typical anxieties about how my body looked on the beach (the feelings that I try to fight because they run so contrary to my feminist beliefs) were a little less intense as a result. I felt comfortable because 1. no one knew me and 2. everyone there wore tiny bikinis, making my less-tiny-but-still-bikini style seem modest. 

I obviously cannot speak for the women who live in Brazil (a culture where I have read that plastic surgery and plastic surgery tourism are more common and less costly than in the US, and gender roles/expectations for conventional femininity remain relatively rigid in part because of ongoing influences of the Catholic faith and the prevailing traditional standards of beauty). But for me it felt really powerful to walk around the beach without a coverup and without the same anxieties about body judgments.

Are you ready (I mean emotionally, not physically) for bathing suit season? I'm trying to get back to how I felt in December, regardless of the location of the pool or beach... But I've got a ways to go. 

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