Fuck Flattering

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Hi, my names Emma and I really don’t give a fuck anymore about anyone’s opinions on my body or the way I dress. I spent years of my life lusting over sexy body-con dresses, sultry pencil skirts and summer crop tops. I sometimes tried them on but took one look in the mirror and ripped them straight back off again (carefully of course, I mean I’m not into destroying shop property). Even though I really liked the clothes and often loved how they made me feel I looked in the mirror and all I could see was my lumps and bumps. Those lumps and bumps that I had been told consistently though my life to hide away by the media. Being curvy was fine, as long as you knew how to dress your body aka as long as you knew how to cover up the parts of you that were offensive to western beauty ideals. But then this dress came along…

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I was out shopping for new clothes to take with my to Download festival and I came across this dress in NewLook. There was pretty much nothing else I liked in the shop so I decided to take a chance and try it on. I was anxious- bodycon and stripes! Two of the things curvy girls are told to avoid like the plague. But I tried it on and I liked it. Actually I loved it. It was super comfy, I knew it wouldn’t fly up on the wind and most importantly I loved how my body looked in it. I stepped out into the corridor of the changing room so I could get a better look in the bigger mirror. For some unknown reason I asked another woman who just so happened to be in the changing room at the time what she thought of the dress and then came the dreaded words “I do like it but I honestly don’t think it’s very flattering on you”. I know the lady didn’t mean any harm and I did ask for her opinion but it still stung. Luckily I acted against what she said and went for it, I brought the goddamn dress and wore it to Download and felt bloody amazing.

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And so my love affair with clingy clothes and my lumpy body began. I wear what I want when I want. I’m done with asking other peoples opinions. If I like it then that’s all that matters. Fuck flattering, fuck size appropriate, fuck too revealing, fuck too short, fuck too busy. And I never ever bother with shape wear. If you want to wear it then cool, you do you, but I am so fed up of this idea that we need to smooth out our lumps and bumps to be entitled to wear form fitting clothes. I’m done hiding my shape and I’m done caring what flatters it. As long as I’m comfortable and happy then that’s what matters. Who’s with me?!

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Toodles!