Feminist, Fat, and Fabulous Blog: Breaking Fashion Rules

I spent four days in Sydney last weekend. And each day I wore or tried on things I shouldn’t be wearing or trying on:

1. Wore a playsuit on the way down. My sister’s exact words were: “I will not be seen with you if you wear that.” To top it off? The playsuit is khaki. I am very pale. Way to blend, me.

2. Wandered into a store that generally caters towards younger, thinner, richer people. Tried stuff on (dress, shoes). Bought both items. The friend who travelled with me bought leggings which look fabulous on her. Moral of that day’s story? Try shit on. Just do it. Ignore the sneers (real or imagined) and just do it. I’m glad I was forced into trying on the dress I bought. I just assumed it wouldn’t fit me and was very surprised when it did.

3. Togs, again. Wandered around in my slightly-too-boobilicious togs and did not cover myself up until it was time to get changed back into my clothing. Side note: Oh my God, Summer Bay! (We visited Palm Beach).

4. Was going to wear the playsuit on the way back, but as it is linen, it was far too wrinkled for me (and my mother’s voice in my head) to wear. So, instead, I wore my green vintage maxi with a giant stone necklace. I drew attention to how I was dressing and loved every minute of it. Narcissistic? Probably.

All of these broken fashion ‘rules’ might not seem like a giant step to most people, but to me they were all huge. I drew attention to myself instead of hiding behind baggy clothing or all black. I wore a bloody playsuit in a light colour instead of a darker colour or not wearing one at all because of my size! I swanned about in togs instead of covering myself up with a towel and I fearlessly (ok, with a little anxiety, but nothing visible) wandered into a trendy, cooler-than-thou store and wasn’t intimidated by the shoppers or the sales assistants.

You know what? It felt damn good. I want to do it again.