November is here, and I couldn’t be happier. After the crap fest which was October, I am more than ready for a month laden with nice things (Cinnamon topped treats! A holiday to Utrecht! Thanksgiving! My birthday!)
I kicked off my month of indulgence in London this weekend, where Mr. McMc and I ate our own body weight in noodles at X’ian Impression, went for a long walk down the South Bank, had an incredible brunch at The Spoke in Archway, visited The World goes Pop exhibit at Tate Modern, and got rather tipsy on cheap beer while arguing with my friend Michael about Pep Guardiola’s Mancunian loyalties. And I did all this while wearing a pencil skirt which gave me a very obvious VBO (visible belly outline.)
Coat: Marks & Spencer
Roll neck: Marks & Spencer
Skirt: Lindy Bop
Shoes: ASOS (old)
Handbag: And Other Stories
I love this outfit because it breaks all sorts of rules about what plus sized women should wear. My tits look like a shelf, and the skirt’s not very flattering to my midriff area. But I’ve worn it a number of times over the past few weeks because it’s snuggly, chic and makes me feel like an office friendly Bet Lynch.
I have quite a visible tummy which I used to be incredibly paranoid about. I tried everything to tame it – baggy skirts, control top tights, industrial strength shape wear – and yet it still pooched out whenever I wore tight fitting clothes. So, I became stuck in that catch-22 familiar to all fat girls. Either I wear kaftans and mumu’s for the rest of my life (which would be comfortable, but not always practical), or just deal with the fact that my belly was always going to get in the way of things. I chose the latter option.
I didn’t realise just how empowering this decision would make me feel until I got some pictures back from a meeting I chaired a few months ago. In them, I have a very visible VBO, but look like an A+ power bitch. It turns out that if you carry yourself with confidence, no one will give a shit about your belly. And if they do, their opinion on fashion probably isn’t one you should listen to anyway.
This isn’t to say that I’ve ceremonially burnt all my shape wear. But I don’t feel as though I need to wear it in order to look ‘good.’ Besides, I still haven’t forgiven my Spanx for giving me a cracking blister on my thumb after I tried to pull them up while pissed.