We All Have Curves – Own It

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Image from: http://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2017-ready-to-wear/christian-siriano/slideshow/collection#18

I can’t tell you how awesome it is to see real women in ads and on the fashion week runways. It’s about damn time. 

Target and Christian Sirano are some great examples of brands that have embraced the fact that most women have curves and cellulite, and their belly giggles, and that being a size 0 really isn’t a “norm.” Um hi, check me off for all of that (I love carbs)

But now I feel like there is a battle going on with the word “curves.” Curves is synonymous with plus size. ASOS’s plus size line is called “Curves.” One of my favorite movie’s of ALL-TIME is, Real Women Have Curves,” with America Ferrera (if you haven’t seen it, what is wrong with you? Seriously. Watch it, like right now … GO). 

I have zero idea why or when the word “curves” became synonymous with plus size (and we all know how I feel about the phrase “plus size” … and if you can’t recall I fucking hate it). 

I get it, saying you’re “curvy” is a lot nicer than saying you’re fat or overweight. But why? Why are we downplaying our curves? Curves rule. Can you picture a life without curves. YAWN. God gave us taas and an ass for a reason, kids. Jesus, have you watched “Real Women Have Curves” yet? Get on it!

And I get why people were infuriated over the Zara ad that had two stick figures telling the world to “embrace their curves.” I totally get why everyone is pissed. BUT … BUT(hear me out, angry mob) they are women. Who cares if they are skelator status, they have teeny tiny little booties, and hey, that makes for some curves. Yes, I’m going literal with the word here, people, deal.

Look, I want to see all different kinds of women in ads (Zara, get on it). I really do. It’s important for all of us to know that no matter your size, or your percentage of belly fat and cellulite, you’re beautiful. And hey, most belly’s giggle (it’s true, I’m sure even Gigi Hadid’s dumbass stomach giggles). 

Some of the most beautiful art work back in the day was of curvy women. They were considered the “Kim Kardashian-standard” of beauty. Look at this gal by Willem de Kooning below. A woman like this could have been in Playboy back in the day. So next time you think you’re fat, or could loose a few LBs, think of this art. And love yourself a little. Every inch of all of your curves. Give them a little squeeze and remember you’re beautiful.


I think we all need to start embracing our curviness. And stop immediately thinking curves equals being overweight. If you’re overweight, say you’re overweight. Hey … I’m pretty sure I am (did I mention I love carbs … ain’t no shame in my game). And I’m trying to get healthy, that’s all that matters. But even when I was a size 6, I still had curves … because the lord blessed me (or cursed me, either or) with rather large and in charge taas, or “secret bombs” as my friends like to call them (getting REAL personal over here).

One of the best parts of being a woman, no matter if you are a size zero or a size 24, is that we have curves. Own it and embrace it.

That Time Topshop Made Me Feel Like A Cow

tbs_movies_meangirls_645x360_081920110109I’ll admit it. I have let myself go a little bit. Because I love French fries, and it was the holidays, and I was sick, and blah blah blah, and at the end of the day I gave zero fucks and ate what I wanted.

My clothes still fit … I just feel gross and I am fully aware that there is some extra weight where there shouldn’t be. I’m owning it. I said it. It’s out in the world. 

I didn’t feel too bad about it until I treated myself to a little shopping trip for my birthday at Nordstrom. Topshop makes up a good portion of the “trendy” section, which I wasn’t complaining about because I heart Topshop

…until we got intimate in the dressing room. 

I had pulled 3 pairs of pants to try on, all ranging from sizes 10-12 (I’m normally a size 10, but knew Topshop runs small, so I decided to go up a size, just in case). Cute, ripped up skinny jeans. Gimme. 

The 10 barely went over my ankles. So I was like, okay, I get it, their sizes are wonky, I’ll suck it up and make the 12 work. Because French fries rule everything around me and this is where I am in life. 

The 12 barely went past my God damn knees. What in the living fuck? A big part of me wanted to throw myself in the corner of the fitting room in the fetal position, rocking back and forth crying hysterically listening to “In The Arms of an Angel.” I all of a sudden couldn’t even make eye contact with myself in the mirror because I was just straight up disgusted. 

And the kicker of all of this … 12 is the biggest size they had in Topshop pants at Nordstrom. I felt like Regina George trying on her formal dress after eating all of those Kalteen bars … “mmm yeah we don’t carry your size, maybe try Sears?” 

I didn’t even want to shop anymore. Even though I had found some cute tops that I adored, none of it was satisfying to me. None of it. I just felt fat, and gross, and not worthy of Topshop. And I kind of wanted an entire bottle of wine, but that was neither here nor there. 

And you know what? That is complete and utter bullshit. My mom quickly reminded me that the last time, months and months ago, I had the same run in with Topshop. I tried some shit on and all it did was make me feel bad about myself. 

Clothing should not make you feel bad about yourself. It should be a fun expression of who you are. Not a reminder that, mmm yeah, you don’t fit within our dumbass size ranges and maybe you should just eat salad for the rest of your life, you damn heifer. 

I think “plus size” is complete and utter nonsense. People treat it like a disease. Ooohh you gained an extra 10 pounds? Shucks, looks like we have to send you out to Plus size pasture. Cue the lightning bolts. 

Clothing companies, Topshop in particular … you are there to make women feel good about themselves. And when you don’t go past a certain size, or when certain sizes go from “normal” to “curvy” or “plus” … it doesn’t always make people feel great. Just because someone is over a certain size doesn’t mean they need to be in a different class of clothing. Just sayin’…

So Topshop, your tops are cute, your accessories are lovely, but your pants can suck it. Get it together and start catering to all women of all sizes, even the ones that love French fries a little more than others. A size is a size. Integrate them, shall we? 


Down With Plus Size

CaptureI was watching E! News the other day where they were talking about this stick figure model who is considered “plus size.” And then I kicked my TV in, set fire to it, and ran out of my house screaming madly like a crazy person. No. That didn’t actually happen, but you understand how frustrating that is to hear, right?

What the hell, society? Seriously. How sick is it that this woman (shown to the left) is considered to be “plus size.” And quite frankly, who makes these decisions? Huh? Some big shot at some corporation got together with the “board of big shots” and decided, “yes … let’s teach the women of our country that being frail and freakishly thin is the chic decision to make … no matter what health complications come from it.” (Ps. I image them all to be wearing top hats, smoking pipes, and all having handle bar mustaches with curls at the end … and monocles. Definitely monocles are involved.)

No no … don’t you dare take an interest in good food or cuisine, ladies otherwise you will become “PLUS SIZE!” DUN DUUUUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! :::lightning bolt and bats flying about::: They are treating the term “plus size” like it is the black plague that shows like the Twilight Zone would cover. Oh no, don’t eat that cupcake or the Plus Size Plague will get ya! Run bitches!

In all seriousness, this needs to stop. It’s a damn size, and you know what? No ones business. How about that. Do you tell people how much money is in your account? Or how much money you make a year? Or how many people you’ve slept with? Then you don’t need to disclose your size in clothing.

I’ll come out and say that the size I wear is totally considered “plus size.” If I wanted to take an interest in modeling, I wouldn’t be rubbing shoulders with the likes of Cara Delevingne or Kate Moss, nope I would be on the D List runway with the “plus size” models. The only celebrities at the fashion shows would be like reality stars, Bret Michaels and Fabio. Woof. But the funny thing is, most women, the normal ones who are healthy, work out, and indulge in the goodness of life, are considered “plus size.” And all of a sudden makes all of them, including me, spiral out thinking, “I’m not good enough, I’m fat, I’m ugly, I have rolls, no one will ever want me.”

Well screw that. Every woman’s body is different. And that is what makes every woman awesome. We need to embrace our size instead of fearing that we will have to walk around with the scarlet “Plus Size” strapped to our asses. And those big shots with the pipes, top hats and monocles, really need to re-think this whole “plus size” business. Sizes are sizes. Numbers are numbers. Just because a size goes past a certain number and is two digits (gasp) doesn’t mean you need to make us out to be freaks of fashion nature, alright?

Down with the term “Plus Size,” I say. Burn it at the stake!

Photo credit: http://www.stylehasnosize.com/2014/home/beauty-comes-shapes-sizes-ethnicities/