"I've got a mind for business and a body for sin." Melanie Griffith in Working Girl
I saw the movie Working Girl when I was about thirteen; probably a little age inappropriate, but I loved it. Come on, Harrison Ford, Alec Baldwin, Joan Cusack, a great song by Carly Simon - what's not to love? The line above really stuck in my head. I believed at the time that I'd grow up to have an amazing body - tall, thin, ready for the catwalk.
Well folks, teen dreams rarely come true. I'm neither tall or thin, but I do have an amazing body. This body of mine has carried and delivered two healthy babies. I can climb hills. I can ride a bike. I can jump rope. I can bend over backwards. I can touch my toes. I can do several cartwheels in a row. I can lift a forty something pound, sleepy boy out of a bunk bed and carry him to his favorite chair. I can stand in the kitchen for hours on end cleaning and cooking. I can scrub the floor on my hands and knees. With my two hands I can knit, crochet, sew, embroider, write, type, knead bread. I have an amazing body; I just can't seem to find clothes that agree.
I am suffering from an all too common problem: a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear. So I went shopping, dragging Avery along with me. We went to five different stores, in and out of three different dressing rooms. She was the perfect cheerleader - "Mom, that looks so good! You should buy it!" But the full length mirrors disagreed. I wanted to cry. I wanted to curse my body and every ill fitting piece of clothing I tried on. For Avery's sake, I kept my mouth shut and my eyes dry.
Do I have body image issues? You betcha. Will my daughter have body image issues? Most likely. She's an American girl who has seen countless images of models and superstars on magazine covers, commercials, TV shows and movies. The last thing she needs is a mom who cries in the dressing room over jeans that are too tight or too low, shirts made of paper thin cotton which reveal every roll and bump, necklines that plunge way too far south, blouses that have no hope of buttoning up.
My size, shape and style are somewhere between the junior section and the misses department. I am a thirty something year old tween. I have no idea what size I really wear and which brands fit best. Four hours of shopping the other day and I only bought three undergarments and one pair of black yoga pants.
I am wonderfully made - but the clothes these days are not. I think I might just move into my new pants. They seem to agree with me, as long as I don't look in the mirror.
And now I'm going to go eat a homemade cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese while I sing along to this song and dance around the kitchen in my black yoga pants.