Bestie and I went out shopping last night for a book party outfit. Back to the pin up boutique. I thought to myself, I gotta look fabulous, I must.
The sales woman, who was herself dressed adorably in an animal print cardigan tied and a black dress, tried to talk me into a skirt with suspenders. Too tight, I grimaced. My body was betraying me.
I wanted to wear a wiggle dress or a flared reproduction. Dress after dress. I tried on a polka dot skirt that made me look like a mouse. Plus, once they added a belt, I was cut in half. I smashed myself into more dresses. Frustrated. I swore into my mask and vowed to lose my gut. Bestie was kind and supportive.
Finally, the sales woman scored with a gorgeous red sweater with a cut out heart that reminded me to love myself as I am. Looking at the price tag, I scowled, but thought, it's okay. Paired it with a black pencil skirt. With a bow at the slit. As a final touch, I added a red hat "fascinator" with a tiny black veil.
Finally, I felt like me.
(We all struggle I know. I'm into self acceptance and body positivity, but my first forays back into shopping after the pandemic put it on hold for almost 2 years, reminded me how hard it is to be that way and I gotta remind myself, be you, do you, love you.)
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