I find it interesting that there will be concepts that I take at face value for my whole life, and then I hear another point of view, which changes that concept forever for me. These are all things that I have taken for granted as meaning one thing – usually with a value attached – and then I find myself startled to discover another side. It’s like when you discover that Ring Around The Rosy had its roots in the bubonic plague, which really puts a dark light on all those games we played in preschool. Or, and this is specific to me and my incredible naivety, when I was 23 and learned that the whole point of Three’s Company was that Jack was pretending to be gay in order to have female roommates. Even more specifically, when I was even older than that I learned that the Duke boys were running a still, and that is why they were in and out of trouble with the law since the day they were born. Also, what the what, Confederate flag and the General Lee. It was startling to me, as an adult, to discover who exactly General Lee was and what the Confederate flag stood for. What can I say, this was not covered in my Canadian public school curriculum. All I remember from my childhood, specific to that television show, is that my older brother had a Dukes of Hazzard-themed TV breakfast tray, the kind that a child could use to place their cereal on while sitting on the floor and watching Saturday morning cartoons, and that the show would inevitably cut to commercial when the General Lee was flying off a bridge or some other ridiculous thing. My own breakfast tray was Smurf-themed.
All of this is to say, in the strangest and most round-about way possible, is that in the last couple of weeks I have been really thinking about the term flattering. Along with, I’m guessing, the vast majority of people, I have always had a positive association with the word flattering, but now I am not so sure. I was listening to a podcast, and the guest said that when we use the word flattering in terms of clothing or outfits, it is almost universally intended to mean smaller. Sure, sometimes we say a colour flatters our skin tone or a neckline flatters our face, but in general, it’s true: when we say an outfit flatters us, we mean it makes us look smaller than we are, and this realization kind of blew my mind.
As women, we are socialized from Day One to take up less space. Smaller, thinner, quieter. As the mother of teen boys who work out to become bigger, and who are always trying to take up MORE space, this realization was unsettling.
A few weeks ago I mentioned that my body has changed in the past year and a half; some of it is menopause-related, but a lot of it is due to adding strength training into my workouts. I added strength training back in January 2021, when the gym was closed – and even when it did open, it felt unsafe – and it was far too icy and cold for me to run outside. I wanted to strength train to reduce the risk of injury when I started running again, and then I added a bit more upper body training in a bid to stave off osteoporosis, which my doctor informed me I am at high risk of developing. All medical literature indicates that bone density is improved by strength training, and although I do find it incredibly boring and tedious, I do it regularly; I never miss. This regularity means that my body shape has changed, and some body parts have become bigger. Namely, my glutes and quads; I have a real Baby Got Back situation going on these days.
Here’s the thing: I want to be strong. I want to have lots of juicy muscle protecting my aging joints and bones. I want to be healthy and active for life; I want to be able to still keep moving in my Golden Years. Basically, I want my body to be as strong as possible until I shuffle off this mortal coil; this is why I exercise. I exercise for health, it’s not about esthetics.
Except, it kind of is a little bit about esthetics, and here is the problem.
A lifetime of conditioning ourselves as women to be smaller and take up less space in this world takes its toll on our brains. There is a weird cognitive dissonance here: I regularly exercise to become stronger and healthier, and then being stronger and healthier means that my pants are tight across the thighs and bum. It’s hard to reconcile my newfound bootyliciousness after living 47 years in a society that values smallness, thinness, and pants that don’t fit because they have become too big. Add that to my perimenopausal soft, round tummy that proudly asserts itself despite any exercise routine and, well. It evokes feelings, is what I’m saying.
A while ago, Jamie (HI JAMIE) talked about this exact same phenomenon, but with her shirts no longer fitting due to a stronger and larger upper body. On the one hand: muscle is what we are working for! On the other: patriarchal pressures to be small and take up less space. Jamie has suggested a t-shirt saying “How are you going to smash the patriarchy with small delts?” I want one of my own, but with glutes instead of delts.
One of my most special, prized possessions is a framed Desiderata; the original hung on my grandma’s wall and I had it reframed years ago. I look at it every day. When I was a kid the words that most spoke to me were Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. Isn’t that everything? Isn’t that just everything? We all have a right to be here, we all have a right to take up space, we all can celebrate our bodies exactly as they are, in whatever way they change and grow as we age.
I’m pretty sure these running pants would not be considered flattering in the typical sense of the word. But you know what? They go great with all my black tops AND they have side pockets.
Weekly Reading
It’s Okay To Laugh (Crying Is Cool Too). This was a very good memoir. This woman lost her dad and husband from cancer, AND had a miscarriage, all in a six week period. She writes about her life with levity and wit, and I’m looking forward to reading more! Many thanks to Lisa (HI LISA) for the recommendation. In what felt like a Baader-Meinhof twist, I was reading this and then heard the author interviewed on a podcast, and I liked her even more after hearing her speak. She has a new book coming out and I have it on hold at the library, stay tuned.
The Real Wallis Simpson. When the Queen died, my local library had a big display of royal-themed books, and I picked this one up, saying to the librarian “Do I WANT to know the real Wallis Simpson?” Not to constantly talk about the patriarchy, but PATRIARCHY. Wallis was, of course, the most vilified woman in Great Britain. I did not realize how popular Edward was with the general public, although I did know that Mrs. Simpson was blamed entirely for the abdication and near-downfall of the monarchy. It is important to note that – proven through correspondence – she did not ever want to marry Edward, nor did she want him to abdicate, but once he did abdicate, well, the die was cast. It should also be noted that Edward never really wanted to be king in the first place, according to his own personal correspondence. This book was quite interesting and also very, very sad. It shows that no matter who you are, you need a purpose in life and a reason to get out of bed in the morning, which Edward struggled with after the abdication. This book also paints the Queen Mum in a very unflattering light. It shows her as a woman who held a lifelong grudge – she thought that her husband’s illness and death was brought on prematurely due to the strain of suddenly becoming a king – even though the abdication meant that ultimately her daughter would be the Queen, beloved and revered, for so long.
We had our first snowfall of the season this year, and I have a very, very happy dog on my hands. Also a very, very wet dog! It’s a good thing I have been working out, because walking this guy in the snow takes a lot of effort. I hope you all have a lovely week! xo
