Growing up, my mom would take me clothes shopping frequently. It was our mother-daughter bonding time. On each of these shopping trips, she would always remind me of two things: that not finding any clothes I liked was not a legitimate reason to have a meltdown (I was a very emotional child), and that just because an article or style of clothing was trendy or looked good on my best friend or favorite celebrity, it didn’t mean that it would look good on me.
To some people, that might seem like a harsh thing for a mother to say to her daughter. But for me as a plus-sized girl, it was the (blunt) reminder that I needed to understand that everyone has a different body type. While I believe that clothing is a form of expression and that kids should be able to have a degree of control over what they wear, I also believe that wearing flattering clothing helps build confidence. Who hasn’t felt great about themselves wearing an outfit that accentuates their best features or simply looks cute? It was under this philosophy that my mom taught me to be confident in my body by showing me how to best flatter it.
Until I was around 10 years old, my mother carefully curated all of my outfits. The colors were always coordinated (on the rare occasion that she let me dress myself and the colors clashed, I would be sent to change), and were at least somewhat flattering for my body type. Of course, there aren’t a lot of clothing options for young plus-size girls, so my wardrobe mostly consisted of tracksuits, bootcut jeans, and mock turtlenecks (all of which I now refuse to wear). So when I became more image-conscious towards the end of elementary school, it threw both my mom and I for a loop. I was tasked with finding my own unique style after a decade of having it chosen for me, and my mom had to learn how to let me take the reins while still making sure I dressed in a flattering way.
On our aforementioned shopping trips, my mom would often point out garments that she thought would look cute on me. Many times, they weren’t the things that the popular girls in my class or my favorite Disney Channel stars were wearing. It was at times hard to have my mother bring me over to the tunics when everyone else was wearing crop tops, or encourage me to try on jeans when everyone else was wearing leggings, but I think it was worth it in the long run. By continually emphasizing the fact that my body was unique and that I should dress accordingly, my mother empowered me to accept it as it was.
When I was young, there weren’t many options for plus-size women. I watched my mother (herself a plus-size woman) resort to wearing only bootcut jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters because she couldn’t find anything in her size that was remotely fashionable. In this day and age, however, retailers have become increasingly size-inclusive. Even though I now encounter almost no difficulty in finding clothes that fit, I still abide by my mother’s advice. I don’t hesitate to pick a flowy dress over a bodycon one, because I know that such styles skim my figure in a flattering way. I’m quick to pick high-waisted jeans over mid-rise, because I know that the higher waist nicely holds me in. I wear tunics instead of crop tops because I have a short torso and tunics make that less obvious. I know my body and what looks good on it (and also what doesn’t), which enables me to accept it for what it is.
If I ever have a child, I will follow my mother’s example and show them how to dress for their body type. Whether they have a body like mine or one that’s completely different, I will try my best to help them choose clothes that flatter it. Wearing clothing that looks good on you seems like such a superficial thing for a mother to focus on, but for me it was what I needed to find confidence as a plus-size girl in a thinness-obsessed society.