Truth moment: I hate shopping. In theory it seems like a great pastime, filled with hours of browsing delightful garments until you finally put together the perfect look worthy of the runways of New York, Paris and Milan.
But this fantasy is often cut short by the simple task of trying things on. I love my body, I truly believe all bodies are wonderful but nothing makes my self-esteem fall to the dressing room floor like a fight with some denim. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m getting older or maybe all this self-care is starting to pay off because I’m done allowing an arbitrary number dictate my self-worth.
Women’s clothing didn’t begin to standardize in sizing until the late 1940s, and in their mission to measure all 15,000 women, no one was considering my ethnicity or body type. Even today, this archaic system of measuring is still pretty convoluted.
I’ve finally decided to say “no more.”