dressing your unrecognizable body

its ok if things have shifted during flight!

Warning: This week’s newsletter discusses body issues and might be triggering. Please read with caution or skip this one. I am not any sort of therapist, body, eating, or fitness expert!

Shifting bodies can be very weird.

(Here I am trying on a bathing suit, having followed all the included guidance around size. This is as high as I can pull it up.)

I’m now helping women develop or refine their style DNAs, and a common thread is this: No matter how confident we are as leaders, parents, spouses, etc., there’s something jarring about body changes that can derail us.

It often seems to go this way: Your whole life you perceived your body in one way and you dressed to the size and “strengths” of that body - and you’re still doing just that even though your body has changed. And you can’t stop. And you don’t feel right. But you can’t do anything about it. And it all feels — emotional. It sucks any joy out of dressing.

It’s very hard because our body is such an identifying part of our self, to shift your thinking around it.

And it’s especially relevant for those of us in midlife, because this is a time for some wild shifts, not only in your metabolism and weight but also in where the weight seems to relocate. It really is like the contents of a bag that has shifted during flight.

It makes clothes fit differently and look differently, and it makes you feel differently. The question I want clients to consider, the way I suggest framing it, is this: How can you dress to be your most comfortable, to be your most you, and do so without any self judgment?

Let me use myself as an example. I grew up for variety of reasons seeing my thighs and butt as what I needed to work on (or hide). My stomach and upper body were “the good parts.” Luckily, over time, I’ve stopped treating myself this unkindly with words. I’ve also seen my weight shift. Starting with general weight gain, which of course is typical at different phases of your life. I had a big one when I was a lawyer in my 30s and then I had another big one in my late 40s. In both instances I had to completely readjust my eating and find more ways to build in exercise because I was physically uncomfortable (i.e. I hated how my stomach felt while driving) and the latter time because my nurse practitioner said not to gain more weight for health reasons.

But there’s been more than just weight gain and loss. There’s been “shifts.” I am going to try and describe them factually and without judgement. My bum sticks out quite a bit (and I think maybe even in part from exercise) so it’s hard to find clothes that fall properly, especially because my upper body is very small. My shoulders have always been tiny. But at some point my breasts got huge. I adjusted to that by finally training myself to buy tops in medium. (They were often too big in the shoulders.) At 52, I had them reduced, so that’s a recent change. I sometimes forget and order mediums; people write me on IG and say my tops are too big. I have noticed my arms are bigger. And most oddly of all I’ve noticed new weight at the top of my butt and at my lower belly. When I’m unkind to myself I say it’s a “flesh belt.” It feels random and unfamiliar.

(Here I am in an XS top and 29 skirt. I feel so great! But it involved acknowledging that I am not just a “medium across the board” — I’m not “even”, or an hourglass or whatever. This is my shape and it’s another shape a body can take and that’s fine!)

Now this is a newsletter about style, not bodies. But obviously they’re inextricably linked. And I’ve managed (and am managing) my way through these shifts, so I thought maybe I can help you do that too if it applies. Ready?

1. You’re not alone. And it’s weird! Just know I get it. The weirdness. You feel kind of alien to yourself because the way things were and how you consequently dressed them is gone and this body that is you, literally, is also “parts unknown” — like there’s a UFO, but it’s on you. No, actually, it is you. Yeah, let’s hold hands and say it together: This is disturbing.

2. Before you think about dressing this new foreign body, you have to get out of paralysis mode. You can’t be debilitated by it; that’s when you run into problems. If you look at the changes in your body and keep focusing on how much you hate them and how you’ve been “bad” and how you have to change this and that and how this is fat and how this is gross and how you have cellulite and how this is saggy and how it sucks to get old, etc. etc., you will not do anything to improve your self or your life. We have to walk around every day with our body and in our clothes. And talking about, thinking about, and judging ourselves for all this stuff gets in the way. It makes you miserable. It shows in everything you do, this misery. It makes dressing joyless. And it doesn’t put you in a good place to do yourself the service of dressing this body well. And that matters, because personal style makes you feel like you. The last thing you want to do when you’re confronted with this body that doesn’t feel like your own is debilitate yourself even further by dressing in clothes you’d never wear that don’t express who you are as a person, making yourself even more of a stranger.

3. Say it sucks and then stop saying it sucks. It really does suck. It’s really unfair that it gets so much harder and harder, and it’s jarring when your body changes, and it can really hurt, like hurt one’s feelings. Take the rest of the day after you read this, and think about how much it sucks, and journal about how much it sucks, and tell your best friend how much it sucks, and then wake up and move on. We just have to.

4. You now need to take a frank inventory of your body. You can’t dress your body if you can’t face your body. So what is a frank inventory? I mean look in a mirror, naked, or in your underwear and without any meanness, without any judgment, just look at it and take inventory (and only if this is healthy for you!), just bottom to top. Like: “My feet have grown and widened.” “My calves have gotten more muscular from walking.” “I feel less comfortable in things above the knee.” These are all statements without judgment or unkindness. You can also get the same effect by ordering a whole bunch of bathing suits and trying them on, knowing you may keep, like 1. If you catch yourself saying something unkind, say “stop that, honey” and start over on that part. Or you can do what I heard and loved in this podcast, and think about returning to things you value most, e.g. “I’m doing this to get to be creative with style.”

5. Now reframe your getting-dressed goal, not as getting dressed to flatter your body, but getting dressed to feel like yourself and feel physically comfortable. That means no more yanking yourself into too-tight things. No more straps you keep tugging on. No more skirts you pull down nervously. Because these are signs of physical discomfort, and at 50+ I feel we’ve earned the right not to be physically uncomfortable. And no muu muus or leggings or whatever if that’s not your actual style. Because then you can’t feel like yourself.

6. In service of feeling physically comfortable and feeling like yourself, decide to become size and department agnostic. This is not an easy thing. We have all these associations with size. We want to be the same size as we were whenever we thought we were in our prime or whatever, but the truth is size is random, ever changing, different depending on brands, countries and eras, and it doesn’t mean anything. No one’s asking what size your pants are, and a teeny number on a teeny tag is teeny in importance, while sitting around in tight pants when it’s all you can think about is a much bigger issue.

   

   (Shopping the men’s department for how I want to feel. More and more I look at how things seem to fall, at shapes not sizes.)

7. Now make sure you know your style DNA. It’s very, very tied up in this size issue. When you don’t know what sizes you are, when you don’t recognize this body, you start to feel adrift, and having a clear style DNA is the anchor. What 3 to 5 adjectives describe your style? Keep going back to them again and again. Your style comes before your size. So I like modernity; it’s one of my words. Wearing tight jeans that used to work but now show my calves will not make me feel modern. I anchor myself, going back to these words again and again.

8. When you have a bad day in your clothes, as soon as you walk in the door, remove the offending item and put it on a “probation shelf.” It’s not you, it’s this item. You’re not “bad” - it is! Keep adding to this shelf and look for commonalities. What are you doing again and again that’s making you feel uncomfortable? For example, pre breast reduction, I was pretty much a medium/6 across the board, including dresses. I’ve had to readjust now that I’m not a traditional hourglass, looking closely at the shape of each dress rather than automatically ordering “my size.”

9. Develop a list of “repeat offenders” — things you keep buying that just don’t seem to work. So, for example, pencil skirts are a struggle for me. They don’t lie right over my bum; they keep circling around my waist and sort of moving all the time. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. If I’m going to buy a pencil skirt, I need to buy a bigger size and understand that there’s going to be tailoring involved. So it doesn’t mean anything is off-limits, but I just go into it with eyes open. Also I keep buying medium tops and feeling like they move too much, sag and droop. It was how I realized I was stuck post surgery and had to adjust.

10. At the same time, start to develop a list of lovahs. Lovahs are your heroes. Things you look at and say knowingly, “'You’re going to work, lovah.” You have a total green light when it comes to lovahs. So because of my body shape, an A-line dress almost always works. But the problem is you don’t see many of them that feel modern. When I see a modern A-line dress, I can actually size down to the size of my shoulders, because there’s plenty of room for my thighs and bum. Hello, lovah.

11. Start thinking of sizing as just a tool to feel the way you want to feel. That helps take the emotion out of it. It’s like #5 but I think it’s worth saying it this way too. So, for example, in the Jil Sander sale recently, I bought a men’s shirt (leave it to Jil Sander to make a transparent sleeveless shirt for men.) And not in a particularly small size. Because I wanted it to feel slouchy. I wanted to feel swaggery, I want to feel not hot. I want it to feel like a layer. I wanted it to feel not binding. When you are shopping or considering something specific, make a list of how you want to feel. Then you can think about, “OK to feel this way, I think the size I’m going to try is X.” It doesn’t have to do with your body. It doesn’t have to do with your size. See, now it has to do with how you want to feel.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Looking how you want to look involves inventorying and looking, trial and error, versus just “having” a size. There is no “my size” anymore. Such is life!

Onto the land mines: Yes, there are a few, so I’ll tell you how I deal.

• You come across a picture of yourself looking happy, tan, and skinny and you think “I was so happy, tan, and skinny. Why can’t I just go back to that?” Tanning was dumb. You were putting your life at risk. Today you’re smart. And also, I’m pretty sure you’re happier now. Yeah I thought I was super happy in college, but if I look back with eyes wide open, there was turmoil every day. I’m happy now. So I might’ve worn a black triangle bikini then. What did that do for me? Tell yourself three kind truths. Like “Those were some good times, but I’m actually happier now.” “I was skinny but now I’m a lot more confident and secure.” “I like my body now too. It’s different but I still like it.” Also, look at what you were wearing. It’s not just dated. It’s reflective of someone who didn’t know themself like you do now. Vow to outdress that someone.

• You order something online in “your size” and you can’t even get it on. Oh, it’s happened to me recently! I saw a skirt on an influencer. I looked at it for a long time and it was on sale so I ordered it and was so excited to put it on and — wham! Like not even in the ballpark. And it looks like an A-line skirt! There’s that initial moment of, like OUCH. I could go into some sort of panic and diet and whatever, but I removed it quickly and just forced myself to say “Well, this sizing was not what I expected. The skirt doesn’t work in this size.” I returned it that day and I ordered two sizes up. So what?

• You’re in the fitting room and the lighting is terrible. You’ve tried on three things in a row that don’t fit and mean words are bubbling into your consciousness. When mean words come up, I say “don’t talk to my friend that way.” Something else may work for you. Now whatever you do, don’t buy the best thing you’ve tried because you don’t actually love it, it just feels better than putting on the terrible things. Put your clothes back on, take a selfie in your own outfit, smiling, and go. Tell yourself how great it is that you left the store without buying anything, saving your money for other things you care about. Do something you love like pat a kitty, read a book, look in an art gallery. And then take a peek at your selfie and say “she’s good, she’s fine!”

  

  (In the fitting room recently, in a dress that looks like a rag on me.)
  
  When all else fails, take a walk. Honestly, taking a walk addresses a lot of things. Feels like you’re doing something productive. Rather than chastising yourself about your body, you’re doing something that makes it stronger. A walk also helps because you’re not spending money or drowning your sorrows or doing other unhealthy behaviors. And taking a walk puts you in nature and pumps you with endorphins. And taking a walk is free. Take a walk and if you want to add even more value, call a friend, ask her a lot of questions about her life, and talk about stuff that really matters.