In My Belly Era
I recently bought a crop top and a “longline” sports bra (which is a sports bra with extra fabric at the bottom covering your ribs) from Athleta - both on sale, both in a bright emerald green.
Ever since having a baby, nursing said baby, my body changing in 1000 ways, and pandemic living, I’ve stopped wearing bras, partially because I do not even know where to start to buy one that fits well and doesn’t cost bonkers dollars, but also because sensory issues.
Yes. I am a particular type of human who finds it very hard to be a functioning human in the world when their clothes feel too tight, too scratchy, too itchy, too restrictive, or are just the wrong fabric or color for that day’s vibes. I am known to change my clothes mid-day or take off all my jewelry after a few hours or sleep in the same old ratty t-shirt and boxes, not because I am lazy, but because all other sleepwear options make me want to die instead of sleep.
But the bra backstory is a side-quest in a ah-ha moment I had on vacation, when it became apparent that at the age of 39 I was finally feeling brave enough (or whatever enough) to show my belly.
I paired the crop top with my most sensory-friendly wind pants and the sports bra with high rise (but not too tight) jean shorts.
In the grand scheme of fat liberation, anti-diet culture, and thin privileged, my actions mean nothing. I am doing NOTHING here to change the world or fashion or safety for people of different body types and abilities. However, being able to wear these items that pleased my sensory issues and felt cute and comfortable without being totally embarrassed about how my midsection looked to others, feels like small win for safety in my body. For the little me at 10 who was told her body was looking “a little chunky” or the 16 year old who had a friend blurt out why are you ok with your stomach like that? or the postpartum me who is like “wow, this belly grew an 8lb human inside it and I am still concerned with how it LOOKS” (Apply palm to face).
Add to it my conscious habit of not commenting on my body or other people’s bodies with other people, but especially in front of / with my daughter, my hope is that I am making the world a little less terrible for her and her body and her friends’ bodies.
And just fuck diet culture in general. K bye.
_________________
A few resources:
Virgie Tovar’s book You Have The Right To Remain Fat
Virginia Sole-Smith’s substack Burnt Toast and her book Fat Talk
Sonya Renee Taylor’s The Body is Not An Apology