Make Me Over

Adding an inch

emp — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 13:04:52 +0000

Today I was relegated to wearing what many of you probably consider a “normal” bra: it’s got wires, it’s got padding, it’s got cups and a three-dimensional shape all it’s own. This, to me, is weird. Not needing excessive support, I have for my entire bust-bearing life stuck with completely floppy, strictly no-wire bras. These are the standard in my mind in part because they are also what my mother wore. And I am fantastically happy (mind you, as happy as one can be in a bra she really doesn’t need if not being chased) with my two-dimensional undergarments.

Today I have not been so at ease. I bought this “shaped” bra – a cheap replica of your basic “t-shirt” bra from VS – last June in an effort to better fill out dresses, since I was on a mad hunt for the perfect wedding-guest outfit. Don’t get me wrong – I adore being small-chested. I far prefer not having big bouncies getting in the way all the time. But –there is always a but, when it comes to how I feel about my body– I don’t fill out “feminine” tops and dresses very well, which means there are many pretty things I cannot wear. Particulary since I am not balanced by slim and petite hips, but rather graced with a larger lower half, and therefore can neither fill out neither curvy (for minuteness of top) nor fit into skinny (for largesse of bottom) designs. So I thought maybe just a little extra padding on top would be make some difference. It kinda did, but then it was also waaay weird. I felt like I would take an eye with my new, abnormally erect extra boobage. And in the end, with the dress I was wearing my usual, unpadded demi bra –and thus sporting my actual breast size + shape– ended up looking better. That was kinda cool. Or maybe it wasn’t really the better appearance choice, but rather that I was just afraid someone would brush up against me and feel the synthetic padding. That would be mortifying, as it would reveal my attempts to improve upon myself, to fit some externally established notion of supposed beauty, and betray my disatisfaction with myself – and what could be less attractive than that?

Well, the foreign item has, without too much secong guessing on my part, spent the past 10 months blending with the back corner shadows of my underwear drawer. Until today. All of my bras (read: the good bras that still have elasticity in them) were in the laundry. I tried wearing an old, ratty bra, but, as I was wearing a thin-strap tanktop, it was just not getting the job done –even I could tell it was too tacky. So into the trash the old, reserve bra went and all that was left me was the weirdo. And let me tell you, I’ve been self-conscious about it all day. I keep touching the bra, since it certainly doesn’t feel like my body, and wondering where my breasts have gone. Even the simple action of putting a bag on my shoulder found me stuck on the extra inch, literally.

Luckily I am on my way home to change before going out for the evening –the temperature is dropping and I will be too cold without a warmer shirt (though in this bra, you never would know it by looking at my boobs – nipples are chastely obscured under all that padding)– and so I can return to my normal, real woman self.

Dressing it up + working it out.

emp — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 19:57:03 +0000

So, as I suspected, a transformation of my attire turned out to be an enormous financial undertaking, one simply too large for this project’s virtually non-existent budget. Nonetheless, I have been window shopping and learning, keeping an eye on improving my few choices, and did sacrifice some book money for a new jacket. This drive to style has, oddly enough, pushed me into purchasing functional clothing – largely outerwear: two winter coats (discount prices) – a sporty wool jacket with belt and hood and a longer puffy coat (synthetic) for colder days; a rain coat + rain boots; and winter boots. Both pairs of boots lack a fashionable edge, but at least my feet have been warm + dry this winter. Next year I will upgrade to sassy, too.

Blazers work really well for me –they add shape and structure to my round shoulders and somehow make me look older and taller, both areas in which I need help. They are rather difficult to wear in most seasons, since they are too bulky to wear comfortably under coats and too warm for summer, but perhaps that means it’s time for me to find smaller ones in daintier fabrics. In any event, it amazes me how much better I feel knowing I’m wearing clothing that brings me closer to stylish. Of course, it’s still a daily battle.

A few months ago, I decided that boots and skirts should be my next areas to tackle –the boots because they are a defining element in winter fashion, and skirts because I’m trying to reduce the impact of my short stubby legs and long torso. I have yet to be successful: I’ve never liked the way boots wear and even ignoring that, I still haven’t seen a pair I liked and could also afford. And the right style of skirts – short but not too short, fitted but not too tight, light but warm fabrics, etc etc – seemed impossible to find in winter. Now that Spring is here, I can start my searches again. I am liberated from the onus of the boot and skirts + dresses should abound. Yes, my transformation is on the horizon!

Speaking of total change, I have continued working, oh-so-gradually, on my body transformation, which it turns out I have yet to share with you, gentle readers.

I tried doing circuit video tapes in my living room and it was working great –until my knees couldn’t take it anymore. And then I had the gym at work –until my knees couldn’t take it anymore. And lately, I’ve been devoted to vinyasa yoga… and even there, my knees are complaining! It’s wretched. I have also been taking Alexander Technique classes and will start on private sessions next month. The AT should help with my knees and I am scheduled to return to the sports-medicine doctor and get some help through physical therapy. I will also be returning to the pool, swimming weekly as of this month, since that at least doesn’t hurt my knees.

To explain: I tore my hamstrings about 4-5 years ago and never addressed the problem (since after the pain went away, I didn’t know there was a problem). I didn’t pay attention to the havoc this strength imbalance in my legs was wreaking on my knees, and finally about two years ago they gave out, responding with swelling and pain. 3 months later some PT helped, but the limited sessions I could afford weren’t enough. And since then I have been trying what I could to build strength, but clearly the situation hasn’t improved much. It is rather devastating. While I *can* dance, I have to constantly be careful of my knees and generally avoid most of the things I love doing. Exercise is difficult because most rigorous workouts also work the knees too hard. But NOT exercising is even more of a challenge since I love to move. And while I love sitting on the couch watching movies as much as the next gal, I can’t can’t can’t not be physically active –it’s far too depressing

So here I am, heartbroken at being more sedentary than I enjoy (intensified in the past 6 months by my new job which keeps me seated much of the day), and gaining weight as a result. I don’t as yet have a new and improved fitness plan, but I have recently embarked on a new approach to eating: raw food.

More on that next time, gotta head out for my daily yoga, with lots of modifications to appease the complaining knees.

Change

emp — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 19:33:32 +0000

Changing requires emotional commitment. Even change “for the better” can be exceedingly challenging. We may not like who we think we are, but we’ve nonetheless had a long time to live in our skins and can at least take comfort in the reliability of ourselves. And when we make the decision to change who we are –through inner or outer means– we face the fear that we might not like who we turn into and that we might not be prepared for how it will shift our relationships and demand of us new responsibilities. It is no small thing to embark on changing oneself. It is terrifically difficult. And with “we” and “one,” I mean of course “me.”

For the past six months, I have been stewing in deliberations with myself over my supposed desire to change and what this experiment asks of me. The new job I started last August was the perfect platform to present a “new” me, and though I made a small effort in the beginning, I ran out of money to address the holes in my wardrobe and found the addition of make up to my daily routine impractical (in the face of desired time spent sleeping and/or out of the office – I currently refuse to apply make up twice in one day at the sacrifice of precious free time, and this would be often necessary as I go to the gym during lunch). As I’ve settled into the job, the casual or conventional (and just plain tacky) attire of most of everyone else makes my attempts to appear more sophisticated feel misplaced (or maybe it’s the old + dingy office I work in?). And by now, I don’t trust my colleagues enough to embark on visible change that will invite comment + opinion.

In truth, I don’t trust many people with an opinion on my changing. Anne Hathaway made it look so easy in The Devil Wears Prada, but it’s not. And look how her friends ridiculed her for committing to the “superficial,” for becoming “someone else,” so they saw. It wasn’t really that she had changed, it was that she had committed herself to a job that didn’t leave room for anything else. But did her personality and resolve change? I don’t see it.

not so harmless this

emp — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 19:58:36 +0000

If you remember, I ventured into permanent hair removal last week visiting the Ronni Kolotkin boutique for electrolysis.

They say it’s painless, that some clients even fall asleep during treatment (like hair is a disease or something). Painless my foot. It reeeeally hurts, especially during the first treatment of a coarse hair. Woah, woah, wait a second — the first time? Like any wonder drug that people sell, this one has fine print too. Electrolysis is a (apparently the only) method of permanent hair removal, but it takes several visits to permanently kill the hair follicle –which is why no new hair grows back. I don’t know what I thought permanent hair removal involved, but there’s something kinda creepy to me about that phrase: “kill the follicle.” Ick. And because they’ve created many little deaths on my face, there’s some definite reddening and inflammation –it looks like mini pox on my chin.

In any event, I wasn’t prepared for the pain and I wasn’t prepared for the repeat visits (which I can’t afford at these prices -$65 for a 15 minute visit!) so there ends my experiment with permanent hair removal.

On to the next thing… body change I can get in to, aka “fitness” or, in this case, the process of becoming “fit,” defined as:

FIT adj
1 – a) 1. adapted to an end or design; suitable by nature or by art
2. adapted to the environment so as to be capable of surviving
b) acceptable from a particular viewpoint (as of competence or morality); proper
2 – a) put into a suitable state; made ready
b) being in such a state as to be or seem ready to do or suffer something
3 – sound physically and mentally; healthy

So, which fit am I after?

permanent alterations

emp — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 00:42:20 +0000

In two days I will venture into permanent change. Or at least, that’s what they tell me. I have an appointment at Ronni Kolotkin, the premiere choice for electrolysis, the only method for safe, permanent hair removal.

Normally I don’t go for the expensive stuff like this, but a friend of mine turned me on to it by giving me the low down on tweezing, which has over the years helped me to cultivate from the one or two perfectly-common-for-women-to-have stray hairs on my face, a small colony.

So off I go for a consultation as to what will be the best course of electrolysis action and then poof! Actually, there’s no poofing. There are needles involved! Never fear, it’s rumored similar to acupuncture, which is actually a kinda cool sensation. More on that next week.

makeup results

emp — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 00:25:20 +0000

Well, the makeup went largely unnoticed, which is probably a good thing. Friend 1 started ever so slightly when she saw my face, which I determined later was partly a moment of comparison dismay in the face of my dressier-than-usual appearance, where she wore comfortable jeans and a hoodie – looking very pretty, I must say, albeit not “fancied” for a night out.

Friend 2 I made the mistake of giving advance notice of the presence of the makeup and so all she noticed was the mascara and lipstick (barely), which wouldn’t be so bad except that she’s well exercised in face fashion and if mine were actually working to enhance, I think she would have noticed. It must be time for the visit to a professional!

I am going to set up an appointment with a makeup consultant at MAC cosmetics (the choice determined by the introduction – a friend of mine knows this guy). I’m of course super curious to see what colors he chooses for me – I can’t really figure it out myself because while I have ivory pale skin, I have freckles, and where I have a blue undertone in my skin, my eyes waver between blue and green and, again, I have freckles. I am a pale/blue base with rosy/warm spots. Lovely. Browns are too brown, pinks are too pink. And I’m completely incapable of choosing the proper in-between. Also, I’ve never learned how to put the darn stuff on correctly. It is not easy, in case you weren’t sure.

makeup

emp — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 00:51:18 +0000

I am by no means through transforming my wardrobe, and transforming my body, while certainly in-progress -and I am thrilled that “working out” (weights + cardio – “aerobics” is so 80′s) in my 8×6 living room space is actually a completely acceptable way (given my limited budget of money + time) to keep my spirits high and my body getting stronger and with more calculable + therefore preventable strain on my knees than dancing- is years from being complete (while all of the components of appearance take effort on my part, the change to my way of life is greatest through “body” habits). All this to say I am moving on to include in my daily efforts the application and wearing out in public of… makeup.

Tonight I am going to a exhibition talk at apexart where curator Robert Punkenhofer’s A Way Beyond Fashion exhibition just opened on Wednesday. A close friend is joining me, and later we may meet up with another dear friend, and then possibly even crash my boyfriend’s fashion strike pub crawl, where all of his friends know me too. I am anxiously anticipating their reactions to my altered state of face. I worry that, for once not having followed the advice of anyone, my makeup is all wrong. My apartment has wretchedly spotty lighting (normally a beautiful thing) and while I think the makeup turned out ok, it still looked too much to me. I have a freckled and uneven complexion, so adding foundation, powder, blush, and eye shadow –oh yes, and mascara– is a bit of a shock. I feel very… ivory. (That’s the name of the foundation shade.) And now some guy on the train is trying to name all the states in the union in an effort to pinpoint first the midwest and second the state in the midwest from which I admit to have hailed. Um… WHY is this dude talking to me?!!! And when I say dude, I mean it in a categorical way. Hrrm. It can’t possibly be the make-up…

Well I don’t think that’s it, but now I’ve completely lost my train of thought and have in the meantime arrived at my destination and (woah, that’s vito acconci over there!) am waiting for my first friend of the evening, noticing that my lip gloss has dried up.

wearing it on my sleeve

emp — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 00:07:56 +0000

Slowly and over the past several months I have been learning the clothing lessons. I spend a good deal more time browsing sales (online mostly) and worrying about not having the right shoes (I still need several more pairs) since really, shoes are critical to one’s wardrobe. They have to function (absorbing shock to minimize wear + tear on the joints b/c even at my young age, they’re going) and show flair (b/c it is so easy to be outlandish in one’s shoes without making others uncomfortable about one’s excessive fashion statement).

I have spent more money than comes naturally on new shoes + clothes and it only makes me more aware of how many articles I still lack. I can say I have been rather creative (yes even at 630AM) dressing for my new job. Now that I am desk bound, I feel freer to put together any most outfit and bolder about wearing my “nice” clothes, since there’s guaranteed not to be any ladder climbing. It is also through my marked effort this summer + fall that I have even ventured into wearing skirted things. I have revived at least one old dress that may not be all together fashionable but is flattering in a classic way. The handful of dresses acquired in the search for the perfect outfit to wear to someone else’s wedding have all seen daylight more than once (including the successful dress), which might be a dress wearing record for me.

But mostly I am simply learning to read everything more confidently and quickly than I did before, which makes me both more at ease with other people’s appearance and attire and also anxious about not living up to my own potential in outfit-making. And also my drive to look more grown up and sophisticated is fading. In part because I find whatever feelings of confidence I gain are troubled by lurking shadows of falseness. Perhaps also because I can associate this type of dress only with work and scheduled commitments, which are not bad, but feel constricting.

So here I am, missing my days of denim + tees, but making “progress” nonetheless.

thoughts on dress

emp — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 16:00:14 +0000

Back in May when I was starting to shop with a vengeance, I purchased Bridgette Raes‘ Style Rx: Dressing the Body You Have to Create the Body You Want. Raes is an image consultant like my own Amy Eidelman, and so the advice in the book follows some of the tips these cats learn -how to play up your flattering features and avoid drowning them out. I didn’t find the book very useful in part because many of the lessons I had already learned from Amy, but also because I’m after an overall look change, not just advice on how to flatter my body.

But this isn’t meant to be a book review. I wanted nonetheless to point out that with the advice I have gotten from Amy and this book, I’ve been able to do very little towards my goal of looking more sophisticated –in part because today’s fashions are a) unflattering on most women and b) really unflattering on me. Part of sophistication is, I am discovering, fitting into the current fashions with just enough individuality to stand out as yourself. And right now current style is refusing to help.

Part of the image I’m after, I’ve decided, simply cannot be accomplished with clothing only, so I’m moving on to the source –my body. Firming up some of my excess softness will give me greater flexibility in making use of today’s fashion trends (or, better yet, by the time I get there, fashion will also have shaped up into something with more chic).

shoes + a dress

emp — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 22:20:43 +0000

My quest for the perfect dress shoes continued into every shop I could find. After two hours of looking and trying on really uncomfortable and not-all-that-pretty shoes at boutiques and larger stores, I finally gave up on matching the dress and settled for a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough to wear to a party –and this pair looked really cute on me. Black mary-jane style low heels (maybe 1″?). The ticket here was that the low heel made them comfortable for my legs and back (though the toe area is a bit tight) and they still looked classy –sorta like a pair of Audrey Hepburn heels/flats but a bit chunkier to fit my medium-boned build. The current sale suckered me into buying a pair of dusty-blue wedge sandals that I hoped would work with the dress. They don’t. The Audrey shoes don’t either. And of course what does my boyfriend decide is the best of my options? A pair of sandals I had bought weeks ago (danskos –very comfortable and supportive, but mostly casual in style). Ergh. Somehow I wasn’t satisfied and spent my last possible morning running through Anthropologie, now looking for a dress to match the Audrey shoes. And I found one! But of course not within my budget. So I went a little nuts and bought it anyway. Dressed up with pearls, I thought it was rather classy (admittedly less so in the florida heat, but you gotta try).

Now the trick to this dress is that the material is, I think, rather ugly. And the cut doesn’t look like anything spectacular, but somehow the combination of the busy pattern in dark colors, the shaped neck, and the chunky lines makes this dress look rather nice on me! What I like most is how the high waist rather than making me look pregnant actually has a slimming effect. I felt more fashionably “straight” with my butt de-emphasized. But! with enough rear-end to still sport some curves. And because the fabric is a smooth, spandexy jersey, it’s also terribly fun to dance in.