WHAT I’M WEARING: OASIS LEATHER BIKER JACKET, PRIMARK DRAPE BLOUSE,
CHICWISH FISHTAIL SKIRT, GIVENCHY ANTIGONA BAG & PRIMARK LACE UP HEELS
Now perhaps this is an overshare, but then again, this entire blog evolved into one long ramble of an overshare so I’ll divulge like I usually do. I suffer horribly, terribly, sometimes it makes me cry in the bathroom… from menstrual bloating. Once a month I go from my usual size 6 skinnies to elasticated waistbands only. The difference in body weight pre and post period is about 5 kilos, I am not exaggerating. And every month it humiliates me, saps my self confidence down past zero and into that dark place I will call the negative. I shift uncomfortably in all my clothes and usually do everything I can to stay at home, alone. I secretly flinched the last time the man I’m dating tried to touch me. It is epic hard work being a woman, our hormones are shitty little dictators, capable of not only altering our moods but the shape of our bodies too. I think all of us as women deserve a high five for dealing with that all the time, our entire lives. So high five to you my lovely. HIGH FIVE. And so once a month, every damn month, I have to dig into the depths of my wardrobe, quite like Regina George’s infamous ‘sweatpants are all that fit me right now’ and I’ll stand there in a stupor because not much fits and whatever I can hoist over my hips typically isn’t a viable outfit option for the daily in and outs of my job as a fashion blogger. But at 27, I’ve learnt a few ways to conceal this ongoing problem of mine. Such as the sweater dress or boyfriend jeans, yes these are my best friends when it comes to the bloat. But what about on the days when I need to wear something more formal or fancy? I learnt to layer, embrace anything that drapes and to wear things high on my waist, as the dimensions of that body part don’t seem to change. And so here I am, smiling away, spinning beneath the sunshine in an outfit I constructed with the sole and very determined aim of concealing everything I feel. A skirt physically tied high up (with a hair bobble) away from my hips, a 3 sizes too big Primark blouse that folds like a blanket across my body. And the final piece? A very tight leather jacket slung across my shoulders, which I wouldn’t dare even try to zip but allowing it to swing around alludes to the fact that it still fits (which it doesn’t, not even close I tell you). The Givenchy and ridiculously high heels? I’ll call those required armor. I don’t know about you but my wardrobe is a daily personal hell whenever I’m on my period. I bet I’m the only fashion blogger to say that, but hey, the words that spill here are faithful to how I feel. I am yours truly, and today? A bloated, sulking-because-I’m-swollen yours truly. But hey, still yours, always.
6 Comments
Leave a Comment