On this, the last day of the year, I would like to share another awesome thing. It seems like an appropriate way to close out the old year and welcome in a new one.
There’s a dress store in Silver Lake that I adore. Matrushka has funky, lovely, cool dresses all designed and made by the shop’s owner. The first time I wandered in there with a friend, I wanted to buy all of the beautifully patterned, flatteringly cut dresses in the store. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fit into any of them. I’d never gone into the store on my own because I knew nothing in a boutique store featuring sizes S, M and L would be large enough for me. When I was there with my friend, I resigned myself to admiring the dresses and giving advice while she tried things on.
But the store won my eternal devotion when the saleswoman mentioned that they could make any of their dresses to fit – all they needed were my measurements. Even though I was plus-sized, even though I wasn’t the kind of girl who got to shop in cute neighborhood boutiques, in this instance, in this store, I could shop, and I could have an awesome dress. Anyone who has ever been too large for all the clothes in a store – or in many stores – knows how isolating and marginalizing it feels. Wandering among racks, looking at clothes I know not to bother trying on, while my friends shop with intention has always made me feel awkward and overly self-aware, each piece of clothing reinforcing to me how much I don’t fit in (literally) because of my size.
I had my places I shopped – stores that catered to plus-size women – but it was thrilling to find that I could participate at a regular store. That I could be normal – sort of, almost. I had to get measured and order the dress and come back for it. But I could participate too, and even though I still felt self-conscious, it meant so much to me. And I wore that dress all the time.
It’s way too big on me now (even though I still have it), but I hadn’t gone back to Matrushka until today, when I was in my old neighborhood with another friend. We went in the store, and it was the same but totally different …because I could shop off the rack. All those beautiful dresses? I could try them on. And you know what else I could try on? Everything on the sale rack. I didn’t have to worry about what looked biggest, or what could be altered. I just had to find my size and try it on.
It felt not quite real to step out of the dressing room and see myself in the mirror wearing a dress at a place I never imagined myself being able to shop. I felt different from how I’d felt before, but also the same. Like two people standing in the same space. A newer version of me looking back from the mirror, but still the same woman with all the same feelings and memories. Sometimes I wonder why it should be so satisfying and mean so much to me to buy smaller clothes, when I am still the same essential being. Why should clothing at all, much less its size, matter in the scheme of greater things?
I think it’s because of what is actually different. To change how I looked on the outside, I had to change who I was on the inside in how I behaved. I had to start showing up for myself. Not just saying I wanted a different life, but meaning it, proving it by actions taken over and over again, each day, on my own behalf. Eating well and exercising is all about caring for myself, taking the time to prioritize myself and demonstrate, through action, how much I value my own self. The slowly accumulated, massive value of those many repeated actions is not something I could have ever anticipated or imagined. It is the substance of the change, the foundation that makes the whole edifice of a new me permanent and solid.
So of course, I am thrilled by it. Any time I see evidence of it, any time I see myself. It reminds me of how much I’m capable of, that I didn’t know I was capable of, how much power and potential I have. And it’s really fun to see all of that in a dress.