There is no stranger feeling than being uncomfortable in your own body. There’s no instant cure, no way to change out of it or get one that fits you better. For the most part, you just have to live with it.
There’s nothing that highlights those feelings of discomfort, embarrassment, or even disgust or hatred, more so than clothes. In my experience, and I know in many others’, shopping has always brought out these feelings. All those middle school trips to Forever 21, where I spent 30 minutes in the dressing room crying because this shirt made my stomach look too big and my boobs too small, drove me to hide in my sweaters and big Harry Potter t-shirts. At the same time, I felt like I had to prove to everyone that I was grown, that I had curves and boobs and a butt, even though I didn’t. To conflict me more, any time I would attempt to show off my nonexistent curves, I would be shut down by shouts of “cover up!” and “show some respect” and “you can’t be around your family like that.”
So I was ashamed and confused about my body and what it looked like and what I wanted it to look like and what it was supposed to look like. I was confused on what was okay to wear and what made my body look best and why something looked good on her but not me.
So much of what I hated about my body was tied to how I thought others perceived me. I felt invisible, but at the same time I felt like eyes were on me at all times. I wanted attention and approval from these eyes, and I felt like I could never deliver.
A few years ago, I bought my first button up. And it was by choice, not for a uniform or for some church event. Up until then, all my clothes had served either to hide or to prove something. This button up didn’t do either of those. It was cropped and white and it had doodles of planets and stars all over it and I thought it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t realize it at the time but wearing something solely because I liked it, as simple as it sounds, was an enormous turning point. Since then, that has been the one qualification any piece of clothing needs for me to wear it- I just have to like it.
Changing the way I bought clothes has changed the way I looked at my body. Who cares if I look like a rectangle? These overalls are cute as hell! I have a different appreciation for my body as a canvas for putting together some weird new clothes.
Everyone has a different relationship with their bodies, and these relationships are never stagnant. Clothes are often tied to these relationships and factor in to how we feel in our bodies and how we perceive ourselves.
This series is an exploration on how these relationships can evolve together and how they affect each other. Our models each have had their own moments of growth and realization that lead them to be the badass fashionistas they are today. With this series, we want to show appreciation to our models and their stories and hopefully offer some insight and inspiration to those who need it.
Marisol Ramirez (she/her/hers) is the creative director, photographer, and interviewer for this column.