According to an article in this month’s Marie Claire, your zip code can determine your concept of “fat”.
If this is to be believed, then I am royally screwed. I live in Southern California, a stone’s throw away from Hollywood and Venice Beach and Rodeo Drive and all the other iconic areas that scream beauty and glamour and thinness.
Is it any wonder, then, that I have serious issues about my upper arms? I know it’s all genetics and personal trainers and 24/7 commitment. And I know I will never be Madonna or Gwen Stefani or Victoria Beckham. And I know it’s silly to not want to bare arms when a good 80% of the year here requires sleeveless attire.
But I never professed to being logical or smart about my body sense or self-image. I’ve struggled with what everyone tells me is self-delusional arm wattle since I was a kid and had to pose for pictures ad nauseam (Filipinos are like that). It’s hard to throw away years of insecurities just because a slew of style blogs demand that you love yourself just the way you are. Until it becomes the norm to feature regular people looking fab in the media, I shall struggle with my arm fat, thank you very much.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel, though. I’ve recently discovered a neckline that flatters my broad shoulders and minimizes my triceps’ size at the same time. It’s a combination of the halter and the scoop neck. It’s the reason I plunked down an obscene amount of cash for this dress. It’s the reason why I’m seriously considering doing the same for yesterday’s dress. And it’s the reason I kept today’s top even though it’s over five years old – practically vintage in my wardrobe.
This type of neckline may fool me into thinking my arms aren’t that bad, but I still threw on a blazer at the last minute. Baby steps, people! The blazer, coupled with the black pencil skirt, turned the ensemble a bit severe, though. So I chose a whimsical red snakeskin D’orsay pump to liven things up and to match the whimsy of the top’s polka dots.
Btw, do a shopping Google search for “red snakeskin D’orsay pump” and you pull up this one lone Manolo Blahnik pair. I tried to find something more affordable, but even my inimitable Google search skills failed me. I suppose any whimsical shoe would do in this outfit if you don’t feel like spending half a mortgage payment on a pump.
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