After my micro-explosion about weight last week, coupled with Buddha-like reflections the next day, I’ve decided to kick back and enjoy the ride. I’ve received a few emails about what that means. Am I becoming a member, say, of the Fat Acceptance Movement?
In spite of the occasional radical nature of certain elements of this blog, the answer is no. I simply don’t have the energy to become radical about everything. Talking to you about progressive politics, child abuse, the importance of education and unionism, along with writing, seem to be about as far as I can stretch my strong feelings for now.
But, and this is the important thing, I want to feel good, and I want to feel good about myself. Don’t we all? This can be very hard for women. It seems society is geared to try to keep us from doing this in loads of media-related ways which educate the public. The same machine which, say, helped re-elect one of the worst governors in Iowa history is telling me how to feel about my body. Ironic, isn’t it, that I even take that seriously, given that I know how flawed the media can be.
Last week I had reached an emotional crossroads. I discovered something that wasn’t going to change (much) based on how much I wanted to work on it. Hard work is how I get through most trials. I was frustrated. The only thing I could do was embrace the cliche about acceptance and serenity. (Change what you can, accept what you can’t, have the wisdom to know the difference.)
Some of you know how much I care about clothes, costume, and fashion. Strangely, if you meet me in real life, you can see how dowdy I can be. That’s not as contradictory as you might think. You see, I’ve always been interested in historical clothing and theatrical clothing. I am a master costumer, and I used to design my own patterns when I was a young child. Life could have taken a different turn for me and I could have devoted my life to clothing design, but instead I chose writing.
However, one of the reasons it took me so long to get serious about writing is my constant detour into design. (For the interested, this link shows the fruits of about 25 years of costuming, give or take.) I like sewing. I enjoy making unusual clothes and wearing them.
In real life, I wouldn’t want to wear something this outrageous, but I would like to look very different than I do. Given the poor self-esteem I grew up with, coupled with this strange idea that buying clothes and spending money on appearance is a superfluous use of money, I do not dress as I wish. I have gotten better. I have highly experimental hair. I get my nails done now. I have bionic lashes. I enjoy spending money on my appearance and have become less guilt ridden about it.
Well. that’s about to change. I am going to begin a make-over. I’ll be dressing myself as I’ve always wanted to. There will be a real historic vibe to what I do. I’m going to pay attention to clothes that flatter the figure I’m going to have and fit my image of who I want to become. Likewise, I’ll be learning a lot about creating the effects with make up and hair I want to as well. From time to time, I’ll be sharing that interest here.
You see, I’m 45. Another message the media sends is that this is not an age to feel good about yourself. I commit the crime of feeling good about myself. I like who I am and what I do. I like my life. I don’t think appearance is more important than all the rest, but I’ve decided to embrace my inner wishes about my appearance at last. Deep down, I’ve been waiting to have the perfect figure, which I knew I could get through hard work.
Screw that. It’s time for some confidence.
Just thought you’d like to know.
Catherine
You go! Can’t wait to see all your new frippery 🙂
I’m excited!
Catherine