During my much-anticipated wedding dress search, I found myself drawn to a certain style that I had not previously considered. This said style was elegant, sophisticated, and just altogether dreamy. A lot of you liked it, and so did I.
So why am I not wearing one of them? Well, they were made of a charmeuse material (or double-faced silk or something) that clung to the body. That means every lump, bump, paunch, wrinkle and pimple showed up.
One of these dresses was Ginger by Kenneth Pool.
I also tried on this dress by Elizabeth Fillmore, called Rose. Isn't that bodice just so sweet?
I initially thought--hey, nothing a little Spanx wouldn't fix! But nope, no dice. You could clearly see the outline of the Spanx girdle underneath the dress. It was almost funny. But not.
I'm not stupid--I know I'm a small person. But I'm also not stupid enough to deny that I have some body dysmorphia, as many women do (try and figure out that double negative). As much as I would have really loved to wear one of these dresses, I felt uncomfortable in them and self-conscious. I tried to tell myself that wearing a dress l ike this would be good for me, that it would encourage/force me to feel better about my body because I would look SO HOT (or so I would like to have thought). But in the end, I didn't know whether buying a dress would really change a pattern of thought and self-perception that's been built over too many years. And that's the rub. And lub, and wrinkle, and bub.
So why am I not wearing one of them? Well, they were made of a charmeuse material (or double-faced silk or something) that clung to the body. That means every lump, bump, paunch, wrinkle and pimple showed up.
One of these dresses was Ginger by Kenneth Pool.
I also tried on this dress by Elizabeth Fillmore, called Rose. Isn't that bodice just so sweet?
I'm not stupid--I know I'm a small person. But I'm also not stupid enough to deny that I have some body dysmorphia, as many women do (try and figure out that double negative). As much as I would have really loved to wear one of these dresses, I felt uncomfortable in them and self-conscious. I tried to tell myself that wearing a dress l ike this would be good for me, that it would encourage/force me to feel better about my body because I would look SO HOT (or so I would like to have thought). But in the end, I didn't know whether buying a dress would really change a pattern of thought and self-perception that's been built over too many years. And that's the rub. And lub, and wrinkle, and bub.
Anyone feel drawn to a style of dress that didn't end up working for you?
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