Conquering the Denim Deficiency

I had two goals over spring break: sleep late, and find a pair of jeans that fit. Sleeping late was no problem. Finding jeans, however, has always been a challenge. You see, I had jeans that fit me like a glove. But one day I woke up and looked in the mirror and noticed they had faded lines at the hips and embellishments on the back pockets, and it bothered me. I wasn't sixteen anymore. And I needed to dress accordingly.

Last week I wrote a post entitled An Open Letter To The Poor Woman Who Tried To Sell Me Jeans. It was prompted by a single shopping experience gone wrong, though I've had multiple similar experiences. My first problem was shopping in the same stores as my friends with different shapes. My second problem was letting myself believe I was a fat, repulsive outsider because I didn't look like they did, or fit into the same things they could fit in.

As dramatic as that sounds, I am not alone.

I am among thousands of curvy women who genuinely believe they are fat because they don't fit into the tight skinny jeans sold in stores and boutiques. And it couldn't be further from the truth.

After my meltdown in the jeans store, I had completely given up. It wasn't until I returned home, stripped down, and looked in the mirror that I saw the truth: I was beautiful. No, not like those girls in magazines, but I was so raw. I was real. I had a sweet, feminine waist with sassy hips to go with it. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a chance.

Since given the glimmer of hope in an otherwise blackened perspective, I've been on a relentless quest to dress myself the way my body deserved to be presented. I deserved to be dressed in clothes that would compliment the shape I'd been given, rather than constrict it and distort it into something it's not. My thighs might look like sausages in skinny jeans, but they aren't fat. My underwear lines might show in straight-legged pants, but my hips aren't fat either. I'm not fat.

I'm just a woman.

So to all the women out there like me: the women who hate the girl looking back at them in the mirror, who spend way too long in the dressing room to cry, who can't find a single pair of pants to save their life; worry not. I have found a hopeful solution, because today... I found...

JEANS!

Notice all the jeans in the bottom of the picture that didn't work prior to the SINGLE PAIR that worked on my body. But aren't they simply gorgeous?! Look at those curves! And they're not pulling or tugging or almost ripping. 

I hate that it sounds arrogant to compliment my own body. But I will not apologize. It's not bad to be confident, and it's not bad to do a happy dance right in the middle of the dressing room (like I did prior to snapping this photo) because something looks amazing on your body. I finally found something that looked amazing. You can, too; you probably just don't know where to look. 

Bethany's Fool-Proof Suggestions for Slim, Short, Curvy Girls

Vanity

This was the first store I ever shopped in that I felt like I truly belonged. Vanity is a juniors store so you'll find a lot of jeans with rhinestones and bright stitching, but they will fit you perfectly. I'll admit it isn't ideal for women trying to achieve a mature and professional look, but if you've got a curvy teenager who's beginning to feel uncomfortable in her own body... Take her to Vanity!

Levi's 

Back when I was transitioning from kid to teen, Levi's were loose, faded, and ulgy. I'm not sure if they got better or if I grew up. Probably a little bit of both. But now, they are stylish and preferred by every curvy woman I know. Available at various department stores (JCPenny, Kohls, etc.), Levi jeans are available in multiple colors, styles, rises, sizes, shapes, and collections. You can shop by U.S. sizes (00, 6, 12, etc.) or European sizes (first number = waist, second number = inseam). I prefer European. What the heck is a 7 "Regular" pair of jeans anyway?? 

Joe's Jeans 
They're found at Nordstrom. They're nice. They're expensive. But they fit. 'nough said. (Make sure you search Curvy fit rather than Slim Fit. **Note: That doesn't mean you're not slim. Just means you're a woman.) 

anntaylor.com 
Even online, Ann Taylor jeans start from scratch. You find your fit, find your style, and then shop accordingly! You can filter your options in stores and online based on size, style, fit, and color. Your options are (almost) unlimited. 

Old Navy
Can I get a hallelujah?! I got those gorgeous knockouts pictured above right at our local Old Navy! Shop by style, color, size, and fit. They have three fits: original (thankfully not labeled slim or skinny...can I get an amen?!), curvy, and "rockstar" (supposedly good for all body shapes...we shall see). 

Got your own tips or suggestions for slim, short, curvy shoppers? Help a sister out! Drop it in the comments or shoot me an email at bethany@crayonstoconfidence.com to have it featured. 

Happy shopping to my slim, short, curvy beauties! 

An Open Letter To The Poor Woman Who Tried To Sell Me Jeans

Retail therapy used to be the quick fix for anything. I would try on formal dresses with no occasion to wear them. I would tote handbags around the store with the price tag folded inside just to feel like I had a new purse. And the shoes! Oh, don't even get me started on the shoes. If you're like me, you know that nothing makes you feel more captivating and powerful than a beautiful shoe. I loved retail therapy. I loved shopping.

I hate it now.

I went into your store to buy jeans. And 104 pairs later I emerged from the dressing room to return them to you, and after inquiring what was wrong with them in front of a male customer, you proceeded to bring me more. More jeans that made my hips look wider. More denim that made my thighs look fatter. More materialistic items that made me feel inferior. Inadequate. Downright repulsive. 

I went into your store to buy jeans. But I left your store in tears.

I went into your store to buy jeans. But I didn't tell you I was there to buy jeans because I didn't want you to know. Because when salesladies know I'm in a store to buy jeans, they don't shut up. They don't stop bringing me things. They don't listen to what I'm saying because they've already moved on to the next pair of pants they're going to bring me. So here's the deal.

Jeans don't fit me.

By society's definition, I am the perfect woman. I have a full feminine figure with an itty-bitty waist. But I can't feel perfect because by society's standards, I'm the ugliest woman alive. I have a 29 inch inseam, and even your short jeans (or petite jeans, if you're trying not to offend) fit me like footie pajamas. If I try on a pair of jeans that fit my hips, the waistband is so huge I have to pay an extra fifteen dollars to have it taken in. If the jeans fit my waist, one of two things is wrong with the seat: it's either so tight you can see every line and crease in my underwear, or the zipper doesn't plunge low enough to even get the unforgiving denim over my butt.

You then proceeded to tell me that those were your "curvy" jeans, and offered to order me the "ultra-curvy" pair because you didn't carry that style in the store. Because nothing says "you're fat," and "you don't belong here," like "I don't even carry your size/style in the store."

Then I checked the price tag. You kept handing me 120 dollar jeans. But I'd never pay that because I have to pay an extra 50 to have them altered. Shoot, I could buy some denim and make my own stupid jeans for less than $120. That's an awful lot of money to charge someone who isn't in love with your jeans, and I don't even like them. They really aren't that special. If you can make me a pair of jeans that fit me with no required alterations, I'd drop $120 in a heartbeat. But I haven't found a store to do it yet.

You see, you label jeans that fit models "slim," when you label jeans for me "curvy." I used to think curvy was an inaccurate label; that it was the modest way to say "fat." But it isn't. Curvy is a good thing. Men like curvy. Women should, too. It's the "slim" label that's the problem, because it implies that curvy women cannot also be slim. And we believe it.

Curvy women can be slim. We are slim. And you can label us with whatever word you want, but we are stunning. 

Curvy women are true art forms. The craftsmanship of our frame and the architecture of our physique shouldn't make sense. Our weight is not distributed evenly. And you don't have to be a rocket scientist to know that scales only balance out when weight is even on both sides. Curvy women shouldn't even be able to balance. But here we are...walking, thinking, reading, dancing, running, cooking, working, and loving. We are mysterious creatures. We are extraordinary. But instead, we feel like a freak of nature. Everyone talks about how beautiful and exquisite we are, but how can we feel that way when not a single piece of fabric fits our "magnificent" body?

My waist is a size 2. And I know it is, because all my skirts are a size 2. But my jeans are a size 6-8, because that's what my hips need. I buy jeans in a size 8, take in the waist several inches, and then hem the pant legs to a 29 inch inseam. I also take in the fabric at the knee, because all my weight is carried in my hips and upper thighs, so my bootcut jeans look like straight-leg pants after the initial alteration. I need an extra alteration to give me my shape back.

I could've answered what was wrong with those jeans so you wouldn't bring me more, but I didn't have the time. You didn't either. I could've told you that my waist is too small, that my hips are too wide, that my thighs are too fat. But that would imply that there's something wrong with me. And there isn't. There isn't anything wrong with your jeans either. It's just that we aren't a good fit.

So stop bringing me more jeans. Let me find them. Let me try them on. Let me pinch them in certain areas and determine if the price tag is worth it prior to the 4 alterations I'll have to make that I don't want you to know about. Because no one knows my body better than me, and no one knows how to make me feel worse about it than everyone else.

And that's not fair to me. Because I am beautiful. 

Sincerely,

The "Perfect" Girl In Desperate Need Of A Pair Of Pants

Limiting the Impossible

Today I am challenged with a prompt: Something You Feel Strongly About.

Allow me to begin with a video.

No wonder our definition of beauty is so distorted. That poor woman will see that advertisement knowing that the world is seeing a woman who isn't even her. Because her hair wasn't long enough, her eyes weren't big enough, her waist wasn't thin enough, and her legs weren't long enough. So the good news is: even the models in our advertisements don't look the way we think they do. The bad news is: we believe it anyway.

I love fashion, but I hate the fashion industry. In the same way, I'm a strong supporter of beauty promotion, but despise how it is distorted in our society. More and more women are living unhealthy lifestyles to obtain the impossible image, living with eating disorders, excessive workout plans, and insecurity beyond all measure. And it starts early. It starts with the compliments we give little girls (don't we tell them they're cute before we tell them they're smart?). It starts with the unintentional support of the society we live in. It starts with us leaving our Cosmo magazines on the coffee table and the barbie dolls we give them to play with.

I can honestly say I was not bothered by the designs of barbies as a little girl. I didn't notice the dolls were unrealistically skinny until I grew a little older. But I can vouch for diversity. I always chose dolls with brown hair and olive skin tones because they looked like me. I did the same thing with the disney princesses I watched and the polly pockets I chose to play with because I related to them. And I know I'm not alone. I see it every day in my classroom with the books my students read. I see it at the daycare with the toys children choose to play with, and I see it when I babysit and watch the kiddos pick characters to be. Whether you think the dolls are mentally unhealthy for little girls is irrelevant. The reality is: diversity is important, and we need to stop society's ruthless force of the one-size-fits-all woman.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not opting for the "Fat Movement" that's really in right now, where a 500 pound woman shouldn't lose her weight because "every woman is beautiful." I think girls should be healthy. Every woman has a different talent, intelligence, and heart to offer the word, and beautiful souls need sturdy vessels. But no woman should be denied of her inner strength because she simply does not look like the girl on the cover of her favorite magazine. All throughout childhood, we were told that it was good to be smart, and kind, and strong, and unique. Why is the way we look any different?

For the first time ever, young girls will have more options in the toys they play with thanks to the Barbie company, not just in size and figure but also in race and ethnicity. The company is no longer in support of their original stick-figure design, and is channeling its efforts to promoting healthy diversity through a new line of dolls. Beginning with their 2016 Fashionistas line, the dolls will be offered in various heights, shapes, and skin tones (not to mention occupations, as barbies have previously been known for), celebrating all the differences between women today. I could not be more proud to support this movement, and look forward to watching the dolls evolve even more over time.

To learn more about the Evolution of Barbie, visit www.barbie.com, and join in on the discussion with #TheDollEvolves.