Soon after, sitting on the side of the local swimming pool eating supermarket sushi while the kids had their swimming lessons and before I went back to work for a marathon series of evening meetings, I read in our regional newspaper just the kind of style guide Steph wrote about. Apparently the article is the beginning of a series about to run in the Christchurch Press. I quote:
"We welcome readers' input on their body shape problems and fashion solutions."
There is no other permissible language than that of problems? Acceptance not allowed?
Reading StephC's post gave me a stronger sense of self as I read the article in the Press and as I dressed the next day. Enjoying what I wear is something much bigger and better than following the dictates of tired formulae designed to create the most willowy possible silhouette. I wore the red corduroy skirt which I made last year and my most comfortable boots which stop at (gasp) the widest part of my calves, and even when I caught sight of myself in the door reflection, I felt good with the reinforcement that liking my red skirt was far more important than the possibility that it was 'boxy' on me.
Plus the other thing about all that nonsense advice (and Steph deals comprehensivly with the differences available to sewists in comparison with the narrow band of clothing which will fit me and many others in ready-to-wear clothing) is that somewhere, almost always, there is the mention of high heels being flattering to ones legs. Cos' obviously it is a wise solution to wear heels all the time and wreck ones back?