Does my bum look big in this?
My daughter and I pounded the pavements of Oxford Street searching for a little black dress for her college ball.
By the time she said ‘last shop I promise’, I was exhausted. We trawled through the big department store until eventually she picked out two or three dresses to try on. As I looked around for the nearest seat to collapse on and revive myself, she handed me a dress suitable for the older woman and requested my company in the changing rooms.
The size of it
As I walked into the inner sanctum, various shapes and sizes confronted me. Some looked a little uncomfortable being exposed in public, while others cast care to the wind, and really didn’t mind who was looking. There were those who slid graciously into their chosen clothes and those who fought tooth and nail with sheer determination.
Gratefully, I found an empty cubicle, went in and closed the curtain on the chaos. It was then I realised that my feet were pumping, my head was bumping and the music was thumping. I found myself sliding down the wall wishing this could all be a dream that would soon end. Snatches of conversation stirred me back into reality and I pulled myself up again. I was halfway through fighting to get this dress down over my hips when the curtain flew back and there stood my stunning size 8 daughter saying, ‘Mum, do you think my bum looks big in this?’
Perfectly imperfect
At that moment I wanted to scream at the injustice of life and middle age spread. Why couldn’t I look like her? And why is being slim so important? Without a doubt, we live with the media myth that to be acceptable we have to look absolutely perfect. By that I mean no blemishes, where cellulite is an absolute no-no, and with no allowance given for the ageing process. Why do we look at film stars and feel the need to emulate them?
A magazine recently featured an immaculate Victoria Beckham on the front cover being voted ‘Woman of the Year’. Inside was a picture of her left thigh, the skin looking so creased it needed ironing! Be honest, how many of us get a little warm feeling when we see those blemishes so cruelly exposed? We need to give ourselves permission to be imperfect. Most pictures on the front of magazines are probably airbrushed anyway.
To accept yourself as you are can be liberating. Those of us trying to chase the wind of perfection need to realise it doesn’t exist. Accept the real you and accept others in the same vein and be content living the life you’ve been given.
Written by Dianne Parsons. Posted on 26th October.
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