body image

Body Image Mantras for Doubters

by Sal on May 14, 2012 · 16 comments

I have a background in New Agey-ness. Honest. I worked at a metaphysical book publisher for years, and I did so because I’m a double Capricorn with Taurus rising and am quite sure that information has real bearing on my life path. I have experienced the power of visualization, seen spells work, and received practical, helpful advice from Tarot readings. I don’t just want to believe, I actually do. In more cases than not.

But there’s a certain segment of self-help, New Age, advice-y stuff that makes me go, “Eh.” And for years, that included mantras. I talk a lot and write even more, so you’d think that I’d GET how powerful words can be. Especially in repetition. But I didn’t. Until I hit a wall in my own body image work and started reciting a few on my own. And they worked.

For doubters like me, I think mantras must be kept simple, positive, and universal. Looking in the mirror each morning and saying, “My body is lovely and unique in every way, and will remain so no matter what,” is absolutely worthwhile. But it’s also a bit convoluted. A variant on the phrase above, “My whole being is beautiful,” might work better, and even encompasses the you beyond your body. Doing, “I don’t have to conform to anyone else’s beauty ideal,” hits an important note, but does so from a reactive standpoint. In my experience, mantras resonate when they’re affirming, so focusing on the positive always helps. Try, “My beauty is unique and true,” instead.  And although something specific like, “My hips and curves enhance my fabulousness,” will work wonders if you’ve honed in on a specific body area that troubles you, “My figure is fab,” might stick in your mind a bit better in the long run.

Here are a few other body image mantras that might work, even for staunch for mantra-doubters:

  • Thank you, body, for all that you do.
  • I am strong, I am good.
  • When I see myself, I see beauty.
  • My body is sacred.
  • I am powerful and strong.
  • My beauty is my own.
  • I love who I am, body and soul.

You can also go the cheeky route – blow yourself a kiss, experiment with, “Hey, good lookin’!” do something playful. But for any mantra – fun or serious – to be effective, it must be consistent for a decent chunk of time and it must be out loud. I know that last bit may sound like a deal-breaker to some of you doubters, but I’m TELLING you. Saying something out loud gives it a power that reciting it internally seldom can. Think about putting on your favorite dress. If you look in the mirror and are pleased, you’ll smile. But if you look in the mirror and are blown away by your own hotness, you’ll exclaim aloud. Which of those expresses the stronger emotion?

Mantras aren’t for everyone, and I’ll admit to falling off this bandwagon myself fairly regularly. But I’ve been amazed by how these seemingly small, easy, simple phrases can shift my self-perception and boost my body image when repeated regularly. And I’m hoping this little tribute to them will drag some of you doubters over to the other side.

How do you feel about mantras in general? Body image mantras specifically? Can you imagine taking one on for yourself? Would you be willing to try – even for a week? (Hint, hint, nudge, nudge.)

Image via Rosie Molinary.

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Changing Your Body

by Sal on May 3, 2012 · 26 comments

Advocating for self-love and body acceptance is important to me. I mean, obviously. But over the years, I’ve realized that many messages about body image and loving your physical form regardless of its shape or size can be interpreted as exclusionary. Sometimes, when I say, “Love your body as it is,” people hear, “Wanting to change your body is bad,” or, “Nothing is as important as self-acceptance, including your health.”

Health is relative, and it’s a hot-button word. In my opinion, health is deeply personal and not something that can be easily measured by statistics, averages, or numbers alone. Health is complex and different for each of us. There is evidence to support the idea that people can be healthy at many, many weights and sizes, and I think it’s important to acknowledge that.

All that said, I believe that health is important, and that we are all entitled to make changes that will improve our heath and change our bodies. I’ll come right out and say that I’m not a huge fan of traditional, restrictive diets, since they frequently fail and even backfire. But you’re probably aware that I AM a huge fan of exercise and movement, and encourage everyone who’ll listen to seek her own exercise bliss. And I am in no way opposed to healthy weight loss motivated by personal choice. It can be extremely difficult to differentiate body changes motivated by one’s own desires from those driven by social pressures and norms, but I trust you to apply some critical examination and decide for yourself.

I don’t see self love and a desire to change as mutually exclusive. Some people will choose to love themselves unchanged, others will undertake change because of the love and care they feel for themselves. Now it can be dangerous to decide that body changes can lead to increased self love. As in, “I’ll be able to love myself when I finally get that last 10 pounds off.” But, in my experience, loving and accepting your body right now, in the moment, leads to feelings of pride and a desire for increased stewardship. And that can mean resting more, investing in a killer wardrobe, working to improve your sex life, dietary changes, increased exercise, or finally asking the doctor about that thing you’ve been trying to ignore. (You know the one.) When I say, ”Love your body as it is,” there’s no hidden, “And never change it,” clause.  Sometimes love and change can make a great team.

It’s your body, and it’s the only one you’ll ever have. You get to decide how to care for it, how it looks, what of it you share with others, and how to change it should the desire or need arise. My hope is that you can do all of that while riding on a wave of love and acceptance.

Image courtesy hmmlargeart

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Clothing Commentary

by Sal on April 30, 2012 · 37 comments

Oh, how I love this skirt. It’s romantic yet funky, playful yet sophisticated, and ever so fun to wear. It’s also, in essence, a grown-up version of a tutu. And whenever I wore it to the office, whenever I wear it now, it draws lots of comments. Lots of curiosity. It’s an attention-grabber, and causes people to come out of the woodwork to share their thoughts.

And no one has ever said anything nasty about it. Not directly to me, anyway. And I’m able to field whatever questions and opinons get thrown at me, no problem. But I’ve had years of practice and given it loads of thought. And at our Strong, Sexy & Stylish events, several attendees have mentioned that they love the idea of dressing smartly and stylishly, but worry about how peers will react. Specifically how often peers may comment upon or question any noticeable changes in personal style. So I thought I’d offer up a few suggestions for dealing with clothing and style commentary from your peer group.

Mentally prepare

If you’ve gone barefaced for 15 years and suddenly start wearing full makeup every day, people will likely notice and comment. If you’ve worn jeans or pants for ages and start bringing skirts and dresses into the mix, you might get a few questions. One reason why these inquiries feel difficult to handle is that they surprise us. Just knowing that your changes may prompt a few curious questions can help you feel more prepared to react and respond.

Role play

If you’re very anxious about how you might handle potential comments and questions, have a friend or loved one do some role playing with you. You can probably imagine most of the stuff that’ll come at you: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in slacks, Jane!” “Wow, new hair. Big change.” “You look so different!” “So dressed up. Going for an interview, or something?” Jot them down, and do a quick dialogue. You’ll be amazed by how this exercise will prime your mental/emotional pump for the real deal.

Have short and long responses

Even if the role playing thing seems a bit too in-depth, consider mapping out some potential replies to questions and comments. Different questions require different levels of response. You needn’t launch into your personal style journey or decision-making process that led you to switch from heels to flats or long hair to short. Not with everyone. ”Wow, new hair. Big change,” can get a simple, “Yeah, it is. I’m loving it!” On the other hand, ”So dressed up. Going for an interview, or something?” might necessitate a bit more background. Something like, “Nope, just felt like it was time to mix up my personal style a bit. I’m having such fun with these changes!” Judge for yourself who merits a quick reply and who needs a deeper explanation.*

Give it two weeks

This nugget comes from the ever-wise Husband Mike. Several years ago, he decided to wear suits to his SUPER casual office. Every day. He wanted to make it his personal uniform. And, as you might expect, he got a stream of “job interview” jokes and curious comments. But they lasted for two weeks, then tapered, then stopped completely. Now, this will only help you if you’ve made a relatively drastic change and plan to stick with it consistently from here on out. If you wear the occasional adult tutu, that’s a different deal. But if you get a makeover, switch styles drastically overnight, dye or cut your hair, or do something similarly permanent, count on about two weeks of inquiries. Your peer group should acclimate by then. (Hopefully.)

Stay positive

I try so hard to assume the best about everyone, but I do feel that this kind of question/comment behavior requires some guardedness. If a coworker points out that you’ve changed your appearance and you shrink back in dismay or alarm, you’ve revealed a chink in your armor. If instincts kick in, your coworker may start asking more questions, or teasing, or prodding for more information. You made these changes because you wanted to, because doing so boosted your self-confidence, because you want to look and feel fabulous. Make sure to say so! If a fellow student saunters up to you and says, “Whoa. Why on EARTH are you wearing high heels to class?” say, “Because they make me feel gorgeous!” If your aunt says, “I wish you hadn’t cut off all your beautiful hair,” respond with, “Well, I did. And I think this new ‘do suits me perfectly!”

Of course, if someone is being rude to you, butting into your business, and commenting on your body, appearance, weight, or anything about your physical self, you always have the option to tell them to butt out and eff off. Your body, your business, PERIOD. However, in some ways, you’ll reclaim more of your power by acknowledging their observation, owning it, and putting your own positive spin on it. When a person offers a negative or teasing comment on your appearance, they are likely trying to get a rise out of you. It’s a classic bullying technique. Swearing, silent treatments, and rants can feel awesome. Denying a bully the satisfaction of an outraged or hurt response feels even better, in my experience.

Clothing, grooming, and appearance-related commentary is such a mixed bag. Compliments are like tiny little blessings, and can inspire unexpected joy. Comments and questions can cut both ways, and often make us feel scrutinized, judged, and targeted. But I hope that the possibility of generating curious queries won’t keep you from tweaking, finessing, or even completely changing your style or appearance. With a little bit of knowledge and foresight, you can field those questions with grace and aplomb.

Have you ever been on the receiving end of appearance-related questions or comments that caught you off guard? How did you react? Any quick responses that seem to work across the board? Is your peer group likely to get chatty if you change how you look in any small way? Why do you think that is?

*If anyone. You have no obligation to explain yourself to anyone at all. But in terms of diplomacy, it’s often more beneficial to offer truthful information than withhold everything and let people make their own assumptions.

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Clothing vs. Body

by Sal on April 26, 2012 · 42 comments

In college, I wore what my peers wore. I had a limited budget, limited resources, and limited interest in style so I just imitated what I saw. And what I saw was jeans, jeans, flannel, Doc Martens, jeans, oversized sweaters, jeans, long-sleeve tees and, jeans. Also jeans. And the jeans that were in style at the time were flares, which balanced my hips relatively well, and I wore them without thinking and assumed I looked as good as I  possibly could.

After graduation I moved to San Francisco where I traded my flare jeans for wide-leg black dress slacks. And, again, I wore them without thinking and assumed I looked as good as I  possibly could.

It wasn’t until I moved to Minneapolis in 2000 and began exploring my personal style in earnest that I realized I didn’t look as good as I possibly could because I was wearing clothing that fought my body. Since I carry some squish right where mid-rise pants hit, their waistbands were cutting into me even when they fit properly, and some muffinage was inevitable. I was wearing blocks of color that bisected me and drew attention to my butt and hips. I never, ever layered, instead opting for heavy, bulky single-ply tops and sweaters.

Skirts were a revelation: They sat at my natural waist where there was extremely limited waistband dig, they flowed gracefully over my naturally lush hips, they FELT AMAZING. Learning to layer allowed me a far more artful way to stay warm than just throwing on the thickest, heaviest sweater I owned and disguising everything about my body in the process. Once I started wearing clothing that worked with my figure instead of against it, once I stopped pitting my clothing against my body, I looked like a completely different woman. And my confidence skyrocketed.

Sometimes, wearing clothing that fights your body is unavoidable: If you must wear a uniform, if you dress for dirty or dangerous tasks you may end up in garments that work against your figure. But it’s also possible to simply default to clothing that fights your body, to wear it because you don’t know what else to do, to follow the crowd. And you may not even realize you’re doing it. Here are some sure-fire signs that you’re pitting your clothing against your body:

Pinching, pulling, and subdivision: This is one of the most obvious signs of clothing fighting a bod, but it merits mentioning. Clothing that works with your form will sit flat and quiet against you without cutting into you, dividing up your torso, or otherwise hurting your physical form.

Unexpected results: You see a garment on someone else, like the look, purchase the item, wear it, realize immediately that it looks utterly different on you than it did on your inspirational model, silently admit that it might not be a good style for you, yet continue to wear it. Now, there’s no “right” way to wear certain garments, but in this situation you can see that something is “off.” The look or looks you’re creating displease your own eye, but you’re stuck on the vision of how they look on others.

Wardrobe malaise: If you either loathe everything in your closet or feel utterly indifferent to everything you own, it’s possible that you’re buying body-fighting garments. Exclusively. Nearly all people own a handful of items that make them look and feel utterly amazing. Everyone has the occasional, “I’ve got nothing to wear” moment, but if you suffer from a perpetual wardrobe malaise, you might want to reconsider some of your dressing choices.

If you feel like you might be in a clothing vs. body situation and don’t know where to begin making changes, try going drastic. If you’ve been wearing nothing but skirts for 10 years, try pants. Skinny pants, wide legged pants, flares, straight legs, any pants. If you’ve been doing loads of layers, pare down to a single layer of garments for a while. If you’ve been wearing low rise bottoms, try high waisted ones instead. Whatever you’re doing now, try the opposite. You’ll probably end up meandering back to a middle ground eventually, but starting out extreme will allow you to explore the gamut.

Finding clothing that caresses your body, flows with its natural curves and accents its natural angles can be extremely challenging. I don’t mean to imply that it’s a snap for anyone and everyone. But questing for garments that work with – instead of against – your body is a worthwhile project. Because once you find them, your confidence will skyrocket, too.

Image courtesy Gap.

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Farewell, Badassery

by Sal on April 23, 2012 · 63 comments

Several months ago, HM and I saw a movie called “Haywire.” It didn’t quite live up to its riveting previews, but it was still an entertaining, engaging action movie. And what I really dug about it was that the main character, Mallory, was a serious badass. Unlike so many women action heroes, she was not what associate professor of politics Caroline Heldman has so aptly deemed a “fighting fuck-toy.” She was not on display to titillate viewers, she was not made to prance around half-naked, she was not sexy because she was some Hollywood-generated hybrid of porny and violent. She wore clothes that worked for an assassin, her one “love scene” was a passionate kiss with a colleague, and no one ever doubted her agency or prowess simply because she was a woman. Mallory was smart, driven, and capable. Period.

However, the movie haunted me on a personal level. And for a rather hilarious reason, I’ll admit. Watching Mallory deal with crisis after crisis coolly and efficiently, watching her cope with situations and stressors beyond normal human comprehension, watching her exquisite badassery unfold, I finally realized that my own badassery was … nonexistent.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m well aware that there is not now and never has been anything truly, traditionally badass about me. But I’ve always identified with badass women on a very personal, emotional level. Wonder Woman, Buffy, Starbuck, Trinity. I didn’t merely look up to them, I felt like them. I was convinced that underneath all my anxiety and privilege and geekiness was a core of tough, capable, superhero gold. That, if the time came and I was called, I’d step up. I’d fight.

But I can’t throw a punch. I can’t shoot a gun. I’m deathly afraid of bugs, I bruise easily, and my hacking skills consist of my ability to locate any style of shoe on the Internet in mere seconds. Hell, I can’t even run more than a few blocks without getting winded.* And, more importantly, I do not like conflict. Of any kind! If the time came and I was called, I wouldn’t step up. I’d ask what else needed to be done.

And initially, that bummed me out. Big time. I felt like part of my identity had been stripped away. I felt disappointed in myself for my lack of badassery, AND for being so delusional about it all for so very, very long. I felt weak and soft and timid. I was surprised by how much of my self-image was linked to this diamond-in-the-rough fantasy, and by how upset I was to see that fantasy shattered.

But, thankfully, the fantasy made way for the reality. In realizing that I wasn’t a badass, I was forced to think about what I was. What I am. I’m a creator, a clown, and an observer. But if we’re talking about crisis roles, I’m a caretaker. When everything goes kablooey, I may be the wrong person to send out on a revenge mission, but I can delegate tasks, calm upsets, and heal. And that might not seem as cool on the surface, but if fighters were all we had, we’d be in deep doo-doo.

I will always love dressing as badass as I possibly can without feeling ridiculous. But I’m getting comfortable with the notion that, when the zombie apocalypse arrives, I won’t be on the front lines with a shotgun. I’ll be behind the scenes tending wounds and soothing nerves.

What about you? How badass are you? How do you conceptualize your own badassery? Is it related to crisis management? Actual fighting skills? Something else entirely? Why are you tough? Why aren’t you? Is the idea even important to your identity at all?

*Give me a bike and that’s another story …

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Body Hair Revisited

by Sal on April 17, 2012 · 168 comments

Way back in June of last year, I wrote about body hair and its social and personal implications. A lively discussion ensued, and I ended up writing a follow-up post about my own techniques for body hair management. More lively discussion. The whole experience of sharing those intimate details and hearing about your own experiences and views was fascinating and eye-opening, and it felt good to read and consider the gamut of opinions.

Since then, I’ve had a rather intense experience with hair removal. I’m still processing it, but am honestly curious to hear if any of you have had similar feelings, opposite feelings, or never considered the issue one way or another. And I’ll warn you up front, this will get detailed and intimate pretty quickly.

I got a Groupon deal in late summer for laser hair removal, a technique I’d paid for in the past and felt was pretty darned effective. My little Sal-beard had started to become rather robust, so I signed up for some chin treatments. The clinic I’m going to (shout-out to Clinical Skin Therapeutics in Apple Valley – they ROCK) had some ongoing deals, so I chatted with my tech about various areas and, on what seemed like a whim, decided to get my bikini line lasered. I had settled on my chin because it’s among the most visible areas where I get irritating hairs, so, in retrospect, going for my bikini line next seems really odd. I’m a married monogamous woman whose husband could care less about body hair. What’s that about?

Well, I told myself that it was about pain and regrowth. Just like many of you who commented on those first two posts, I basically cannot shave within about three inches of my bikini line or I get the most unbelievably painful crop of in-growns, zits, and welts imaginable. So, mostly, I just didn’t shave there. And that meant I was extremely tufty well beyond the bounds of my panties. Boyshorts are fantastically uncomfortable on me, so for years I just dealt with the seemingly boundless overflow that issued forth from my undies. Just let it go prairie. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had decided that getting that area lasered would be a great way to minimize regrowth pain.

But if I wasn’t shaving that area at all to avoid creating the pain in the first place … was it really about the pain?

Answer: No. It was about the shame.

Once I started getting the treatments and seeing results, once my pubic and leg hair was brought into check, once everything stayed tucked neatly inside my knickers, I felt SO MUCH BETTER. I hadn’t realized how upset it made me to be so bushy down there, how much shame and discomfort I derived from looking at my tufts. And once they began to recede, I was elated. Elated, people.

And that got me thinking about cultural standards and gender and subliminal messages. Because, hell, if my only sexual partner didn’t care about all that fuzz, why should I? And the answer is that I had literally never seen another woman with that much fluff, in print or in person. I felt like a freak, and I felt gross. No one in the world had ever told me that I WAS gross, but I still felt that way because I’d never ever seen another woman who looked like me. I’d seen men, though, and that added another layer of confusion. I began to realize that part of my issue was tied up in the gender aspects of body hair; As a woman, I wasn’t “supposed” to look this way, and since I did I appeared masculine. It became clear that what I was feeling was, in part, manufactured and imposed upon me by outside forces.

But being tuft-free radically transformed how I felt about my naked body. I felt sexier and prettier and more confident. I felt better about my body than I had in decades, and the only thing that had changed was I’d removed a two-inch strip of fuzz from my bikini line.

And those feelings of increased confidence are valid, even with all their baggage and hypocrisy. Just as I feel that weight loss, cosmetics, and any voluntary alterations to appearance are totally optional, so do I feel that we all have the right to choose them. Our bodies are ours to utilize, change, and present as we see fit, and many of our decisions will be influenced by outside forces. While it may be damaging to constantly force ourselves to conform to the beauty standard at any cost or without any critical or personal examination, we must trust ourselves to balance our choices.

So tell me: If you feel strongly about your own body hair, do you think any of that is tied up in shame? Gender norms? The beauty standard? How do you cope with your feelings, if so? Do you feel you are able to balance your choices about how you present your body to the world?

PLEASE NOTE:

  • If you feel strongly about this issue, express your views respectfully and civilly or they will not be published. I’m happy to participate in a discussion that includes contrary opinions, but will not tolerate cruelty.
  • Be courteous and kind to each other when responding to remarks from other readers.

Image courtesy Boden

**Disclosure: Actions you take from the hyperlinks within this blog post may yield commissions for alreadypretty.com. See Already Pretty’s disclosure statement for more details.

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You’re Too Old to Have Fun with Fashion

by Sal on March 27, 2012 · 60 comments

Many style rules rankle me because they seem subjective, arbitrary, and confining. And now that I’m 35 and can see 40 on the horizon, I’m thinking more and more about age-related dressing maxims, and find them to be just as subjective, arbitrary, and confining as the rest. I’ve penned a post on age-appropriate dressing, and outlined some loose style guidelines for women over 40, but can’t say I’m happy with either piece. Even loaded with caveats, those ideas still reinforce the notion that older women need to watch what they wear more carefully than younger women do. That, after a certain point, wearing certain items will make you look foolish no matter your personality, style, figure, or profession.

The main message I get is that, after “a certain age,” you’re just plain too old to have fun with fashion. Your prime directive should be looking sophisticated, classic, elegant, refined. You need to avoid looking like you WANT to be younger, while also doing several costly, time-consuming, sneaky things to make yourself APPEAR younger. You must stop playing with clothes and be serious, damn it. Fun time is over. You’ve got wrinkles now. Style will be a deadly serious business for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not.

Of course, there’s eccentricity. The gal in the photo at the beginning of this post has likely gone that route with her duotone hair and avant-garde earrings. At a certain point in your life and style evolution, having fun with your dressing choices ceases to be “mutton dressed as lamb” and begins to be “zany.” I fully intend to be zany when I’m in my 80s: Loud, proud, and an embarrassment to my relatives. But some of us would like a middle ground between classic and eccentric. Especially since sartorial eccentricity is generally more accepted in women over 70, less so in younger women.

As I’ve said before, I think clothing’s ideal main function is emotional: Clothing should make you feel good. When you look good in your clothing, it’s easier to feel good in that same clothing. But it’s the feeling, the emotions, the swell of pride or jolt of confidence that really matters. And the style rules I read for women over 30 or 40 or 50 or 60 seem to focus exclusively on looks. You don’t get to feel creative or nostalgic or cutting-edge if you’re an older woman. You get to feel stately and composed, worldly and wise. Small, controlled emotions that befit your chronological age even if they grate against your internal age.

I get dignity. I get that dressing in sophisticated, grown-up, classic pieces as an older women reflects a certain dignity, and that it could be seen as a way of saying, “I know I’m not a girl anymore, and I’m just fine with that.” In our youth-obsessed culture, loving yourself as you age is a praiseworthy accomplishment. But I just can’t get behind the idea that any woman over 40 who wants to wear leather shorts is wrong no matter how great her gams or how perfectly she styles them. I can’t believe that any woman in her 50s who dares to wear an above-the-knee skirt is foolish, or that any woman pushing 70 should confine her palette to subdued neutrals.

Wear what makes you feel great, and feel free to tone down the colors and alter the hemlines if that’s what works best for you. But remember: You’re never too old to have fun with fashion.

Image courtesy Advanced Style.

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Variety

by Sal on March 20, 2012 · 23 comments

The diet industry is built upon the idea that there is one good body. One right body. One beautiful body. The plastic surgery industry is positioned to help you come as close as possible to that one good, right, beautiful body should the diet industry fail you. Photos and film footage of the one good body are everywhere, and we cannot help but absorb them.

But if variety is the spice of life, if genetic diversity is essential to species survival, if different is good, then why do we believe it? Why do we believe that the traits that make us unique are bad, that they’re “flaws,” that they must be changed or eradicated? Why do we believe that we must strive for physical homogeneity? Why do we believe that there is one good body, one right body, one beautiful body?

My hope is that – with enough hard work and passionate rhetoric and conscious action – we can change the paradigm. That once the notion of the one good body is finally revealed to be a hoax, we will reconnect with our physical selves and appreciate what we have instead of longing for what we don’t. That we’ll finally get a more accurate representation of humanity, a broader idea of beauty, a deeper understanding of healthy, a truly diverse view of life. That we’ll see variety for what it truly is: A blessing.

Bodies are valuable, gorgeous, useful, adaptable, and downright miraculous. All of them. Never believe anyone who tries to convince you that there is one good body, one right body, one beautiful body. All bodies are good and right and beautiful, just as they are. And that includes yours.

Images courtesy (clockwise from top left) the frog’s eyebrows, corazones rojos, black dress project, annaliviaplurabelle, bloomie, SweetNee.

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