My stomach has always been the bane of my existence.
Even when I was at my smallest, that darned thing just never went flat. I think I’m just predisposed to belly flap. And of course, once I had kids, the belly became this beast of a thing that needed to be mashed and molded, constrained and contained by the most torturous of flattening devices.
I don’t know why having a flat stomach is such a sought-after thing in our society. (Yes, society, I’m blaming you; you’re such a handy-dandy scapegoat!) When did being skinny become a status symbol? Well into the 20th century, it was still considered a sign of wealth if one had a bit of a spare tire – it meant one was able to afford to eat aplenty, after all.
But as long as I remember, even spanning oceans as well as years, I believed it was the apex of beauty to be thin to the point of two-dimensionality. And I didn’t know any better so I tried my damnedest to get rid of (then camouflage when that didn’t work) my pooch.
Today, thanks to another fun offering from Gwynnie Bee, I conceal my self-consciousness with the blouson effect of the top and the free flow of the bottom. I also appreciate the sharkbite hem of this dress and the strong abstract print; both work to draw attention away from my belly while providing visual interest.
And because I need at least one layer – if only to combat the perpetual chill in my classroom – I give you a cropped denim jacket that manages to hide yet another one of my figure faults.
But that’s a story for another day.
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