My Impossible Body

Having a baby messes with your body.  This much is obvious.  Or, at least, I thought that was an obvious thing.  But here is a rather unfortunate story in which I impute expertise to a person who really does not have any.

When I was about 8 months pregnant, right before we left Champaign, I went to the local Victoria's Secret store to be measured for my bra size.  It had become apparent to me that the items I had no longer fit me, but I was totally clueless as to what size I should be wearing.  I thought that the employees at a store that sells bras would be able to help me with my quandry.

I arrived, unfortunately, during their semi-annual sale.  So the store was absolutely swamped with people.  I headed straight for the fitting rooms and let them know I was just there to be measured.  I did not need a fitting room, I really just wanted to know my size.  So they had a lady measure me.  For those who are unfamiliar with this process, it does not involve the removal of any clothing, just a couple of passes with a tape measure.

I was measured in the middle of the dressing area, outside the dressing rooms but not on the store floor.  That's fine.  I have no problem with that.  My measurements resulted in the salesperson measuring me announcing that I needed a 40D.  While I would have preferred for her not to announce that out loud in a volume that everyone could hear, I wasn't super bothered by it.  It's my size, and the volume of her voice won't affect the measurement.

What did bother me is that she followed up the announcement of my size with, "Is that even possible?"

Given that she had just done the measurements herself, and that I was in fact a real-life person and not some sort of weird apparition, yes.  That is even possible.  To indicate otherwise means you either don't know how to do your job, or have done it very poorly.  That's not even touching on how rude that statement is.

"Is that even possible?"  Did you seriously just ask that question?  Out loud?  At such a volume and in such a tone that people waiting in line turned to gawk?

Yes, my body is possible.  I am a human being.  We tend to come in a variety of shapes, sizes, colors, and dispositions.  Which should be common knowledge to anyone who has ever interacted with more than one other human being.  To assert, or even to imply, otherwise is to wave a giant banner indicating that you have some deep and serious misunderstandings about the species of which you claim to be a part.

I didn't say anything to that poor salesperson that day.  Really, what could I have said?  Any comments I could have made would have been for my benefit, to make me feel better.  There's nothing that I could have done, at least not in the time allotted before the store closed, to really educate her on all the issues with her statement.  So I left.  I haven't been back since.

Silver lining?  I now feel absolutely no interest whatsoever in shopping at Victoria's Secret, which I'm sure will save me money in the long run.  Target lingerie section for the win!

Take care, friends, and I'll write again soon.

Bikini Feminism

Last night the Pumpkin and I attended our first "Parent and Me" swim lesson.  I had a blast and Theo did not freak out, which is about what I was hoping for from his first time in a big swimming pool with lots of strangers around.  He even seemed to be enjoying himself by the end of the night, once he'd gotten used to things a bit.

So what does any of that have to do with feminism?  It's in the details, I guess.  Theo was wearing a new swim diaper with super cute swim trunks that we bought just for the lessons.  The trunks weren't really necessary, but I couldn't resist buying them when I saw them in our local Once Upon A Child (second hand kid's clothing store).  I was wearing an old racing swimsuit, as it was the only one that adequately covered by bust and butt.  It was two pieces, and so of course I was completely freaking out about it.  It showed off my pudge, my stretch marks, and my unshaven legs with aplomb.  But it was either that, or I wore one of my other two swimsuits, both of which are noticeably too small in quite inconvenient places.

Why is that feminist?  Because after my initial freakout, I felt pretty powerful.  I was breaking pretty much every rule of stereotypical feminine beauty, but I'll be damned if I wasn't totally rocking that damn suit.  The only downside is that it was designed with triathlons in mind, so it's padded in the butt.  Which is great when you're transitioning from swim to bike.  It's not so great when you're just hanging out in the shallow end of a pool with a baby.

Given that I still have quite a few pounds left to lose before I get into a healthy weight range, it felt pretty good to be able to forget about that and have fun in the water with the tiny human.  Am I going to change the world by wearing a two piece swimsuit? Yes.  Yes I am.  I've already changed my world.

Take care, friends, and I'll write again soon.