By S.D. Craig
How do we get a hold of the same store names those models shop at, the ones with fuller figures who wear those colorful, sexy and slinky outfits that stretch and work for them?
Make me love it. Go on, I dare you. I loathe it.
The aisles of clothing in plus-sizes, most of which Lane Bryant and Dress Barn might think are smart, I find most matronly. And one wonders why I so hate to shop.
How do we get a hold of the same store names those models shop at, the ones with fuller figures who wear those colorful, sexy and slinky outfits that stretch and work for them? Okay, I’ll pay closer attention next time I pick up my Mode magazine. They are out there. The downfall might me we have to pay four times the price that thin people do for their clothes due to excess material. Yikes.
It’s not even easy to ask about stores that cater to the ladies at large. When I find a new one, I’m ecstatic. Then I’m thinking, why can’t I go in Charlotte Russe where I USED to shop. Because, nothing there is over a size twelve, Chatterbox. That’s why.
Can’t you just picture this in Dress Barn?
“Hey Vonda, could you pick me up another purple dress in a size …”
“What size, Sherri? I couldn’t hear you, you mumbled,” sweet, tiny and helpful Vonda asks.
No, that just doesn’t work for me. As a larger person, I’ve had my share of public (and private) humiliations, thank you very much. I shop alone.
And I never want to know certain things, like what I look like compared with that itty-bitty friend. Does the car tip to my side and everyone driving behind is noticing that fact?
Life means different things to us. Will the metal street grate lids make a loud noise when I walk over them? Can I stand another airplane ride for five hours that is so difficult and painful? Will the plastic lawn furniture that’s so popular today break when I sit in it at a family gathering? Can the seatbelt fit around me without being stretched to the max while biting into my breasts and mid-section?
Oh, and my fear. Yes, the attitudes of the public, medical field and press towards those of us who are not razor thin and not existing on saltine crackers and lettuce. And Metabolife. A sad, sad situation.
It’s no wonder we worry ourselves nearly sick about doctor appointments and annual physicals. Many go without due to their size, their embarrassment and concerns about the doctor and his opinion of them. Having just gone through the yearly physical, I can relate. Yet again.
But this time, nobody said “lose weight, Sherri.” I was told I was doing everything right. When I complained about not minding exercise as a rule and having no problem sticking to that, I mentioned that I enjoy eating. The wrong things. My doctor kindly told me (and only when I mentioned my problems trying to lose pounds) about a two-year study of patients who went vegetarian, eating only fruits, vegetables and fish. They did this for other health reasons like diabetes and heart problems, and in doing so, lost down to their normal weight. A real bonus.
Normal weight seems so far away. It’s like Mars or Jupiter. Light years from me.
In the pursuit of light years, my husband and I are now eating almost strictly a vegetarian diet. Maybe someday, there won’t have to be fear and loathing. Or c-loathing.
SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname “Chatterbox” by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at email@example.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.