Good Intentions, Flawed Results
The other day I was sitting in a doctors office surrounding by magazines screaming about the necessity to have perfect hair, give him more orgasms, and of course how to dress yourself. I know that I have a lot to learn, but I did learn how to dress myself several decades ago and since I am not yet suffering from dementia I am still pretty good at it. The magazine next to me was open to a page insisting that I must know my “shape” or I could not possibly dress myself with any measure of confidence. I glanced down at the page to look at the “shapes” and discovered that I am either a shapeless mass of flesh or these fashion columnists wrote this while slowly slipping into a coma from nutrient deprivation.
Being an actual woman and knowing other actual women, I have to call ultimate bullshit on these shape charts that are trying to convince us that we are shaped like fruit. To work in the fashion world you must qualify as “never having seen or been exposed to actual fruit”. I’m pretty sure that’s on the job application. What else could explain how a body can be shaped like a banana OR straight? Banana’s, last time I checked, were curved which is the opposite of straight. Oh Nancy, being shaped like a banana means everything looks so a-peeling on you!
Moving on, you can also apparently be shaped like a bell OR a pear. Holy smokes, I truly hope no one is shaped like a bell because that would mean a pin head and a body as wide as it is tall. Oh Sally, you’re shaped like a bell, just wear this sheet that I cut a hole in for you. You look divine!
Then just when I think that maybe I am exaggerating the ludicrousness of this idea, I see that the next body shape is a triangle OR an apple. I mean obviously that is true because apples and triangles have so much in common. When I took geometry I got hung up on how to calculate the hypotenuse of an apple. It’s tough, because you know, apples are ROUND. What in the bloody hell?
Fortunately I was saved from contemplating the bizarre world of fashion, my clearly indefensible lack of resemblance to a piece of fruit, and my desire to write a profane letter to the editor, by the nurse calling me.
On the drive home, I decided to come up with real shapes for women which meant that I started contemplating my own shape. This lead me to the discovery that maybe comparing us to apples and pears and bells and bananas wasn’t so idiotic after all. Because when I really started thinking about it I decided that the shape that I most closely resembled is a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Yeah, totally disappointing.
I started listing off the parts of my body: large, strong legs, short arms, muscular straight body, large head, large eyes… I don’t have a tail but my ass is large enough to be mistaken for one, so that counts. Yep, the tyrant lizard king, that’s me.
Me: Hello, Vogue, uh yeah I have a bit of challenge for you. Could you tell me how to dress a Tyrannosaurus Rex?
Vogue: Is this a joke?
Me: No, totally serious. I mean how do I make myself look thinner, you know, more like a banana?
Vogue: Ummmm, are you on medication?
Me: Not right now. Hey you are the experts, give me some guidance here.
Vogue: Okay…hold on…(indecipherable whispering)
Me: Hello? Don’t hang up on me
Vogue: Uh, yeah so I talked to our fashion guru and he said to tell you that the best way to dress a Tyrannosaurus Rex is carefully. Very carefully.
This was followed by maniacal laughter, which went on far too long. This meant that I was on my own and would have to continue to dress my giant lizard body with no help from those fruit hating ignoramuses calling themselves “stylists”.
After careful consideration, I settled on this as my “statement” outfit. It says, “I am a pretty, pretty flower, but I will eat you for dinner if you mess with me”.
Take that Vogue.
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