Are you going to wear that? Seriously?

I don't know how many times in the 90s that people asked me when I was due. The 90s, in case you aren't in the know, was a wonderful age of leggings and over-sized shirts. Actually, it's still somewhat of an "timeless classic", but it takes a certain personality to pull it off as well. Although really, who was I fooling with my maternity-wannabe wardrobe? And, coincidentally, I spent quite a bit of the 90s wishing I were pregnant.  But what better way to "disguise" your figure flaws than with clothing, right? Well, actually...

I remember a defining moment when I was having trouble finding leggings. I went into some chain store and was trying no-name clothing on. This one pair of leggings clearly revealed more than they hid. I think I can trace my disenchantment with leggings from there. But while it lasted, how delightful it was to feel like I was hiding in my clothes.

My other survival trick (read: another form of self-deception) was vests. During the acme of that trend, I must've had a dozen vests. The cool thing about them was you can wear a shirt that doesn't quite button all the way down under them, thus salvaging a piece of wardrobe until it fits later on. 

Definition: Saving until it fits (verb). A state of mental inability to accept one's size in relation to a favorite piece of clothing, often one purchased as incentive to  lose weight, such as a bikini or fitted garment.

You know, I still have things I just can't bear to part with, for one reason or another. Every once in a while I try to psyche myself out and I buy something at a spendy store, since buying things at cheap places tends to send the message to me that it's OK to gain weight at will because the cost to upgrade is so inexpensive. Like that salmon colored cross-over top from Ann Taylor. Yes I fit into it. Is that any excuse to wear it? Back when I reached goal, I bought a bunch of size mediums just because I could. The problem: the material shrinks up and in terribly, so the solution is to buy a size bigger so you can wear it longer. Oh the humanity to buy a size large when you don't "have" to!

Come to think of it, a lot of my attempts at dressing in "normal" clothing involves salmon. Hmmm....

Anyway, my motto these days (post reaching goal and gaining most of my weight back) is "just because you can doesn't mean you should. Like buying a size that fits--sort of, mostly. Like buying something that fits as long as you don't move. Like buying something trendy that actually looks bad on every body type, like the baby doll top. You know, when my daughter was a toddler and not picky, she wore a bunch of those (although for kids they call them "swing tops") and she looked great. But she's a child and doesn't have boobs. An adult woman tends to look like she's trying to be something she's not (call me Lolita and I'll call you Humbert...) Worse of all are the baby dolls that cut across the boobs of large-breasted women. Hello!? Way to highlight an area in a not very attractive way.

Actually, I do this, too. My favorite top for the past couple of years is J. Jill's crossover too. It works for me on so many levels. It has 3/4 sleeves, which are great for short-armed people like myself. It isn't fitted, so I can wear it on top of pants with impunity. And it is vaguely feminine. So if at times it cuts me across the boobs, for the most part it says "I'm trying to look like a girl and not a well-wrapped package."

So to all the women who hide in their clothing (either to conceal flab or to conceal scrawniness), I understand. But seriously: it's not working...