I No Longer Have A 26” Waist

I no longer have a 26” waist.

This is of course inconsequential.

Giving birth alters your body, mind and spirit in many ways, and this is only an elemental surface level one.

I could spend time writing about the idiotic societal norms and narratives around women “bouncing back” and getting back to their pre-pregnancy bodies, but that’s not what this essay is about.

I have been fortunate over the years of both my adolescence and adulthood to not be caught up in the constant comparison game of what my body does or doesn’t look like. A gift for which I thank the simple guidance and subconscious mirroring of my Mother.

But in a very real day-to-day way up until becoming a mother myself, my body size helped pay my bills.

My body having been on the smaller end of the spectrum, therefore allowing me to fit into and model the majority of the clothing that passed through the shop doors.

So as a result, my size has been on my mind more than usual of late.

Because modeling for the shop looks a little different these days, as I currently cannot fit into as many of the pieces as I used to be able to, but in addition to that I have to list clothing more efficiently than in the days before motherhood and that often looks like hiring a model.

(Or not using one at all and hoping our customers own a tape measure as well as an imagination!)

Also, on a very real level, leaking breastmilk is of course a constant dilemma and there are only so many times I can wash a vintage piece for the shop I have learned…

Tangentially— Never would I ever have left the house in sweatpants before becoming pregnant, unless I was in fact headed to work out. But the last few months of my pregnancy saw me wearing almost exclusively that dreaded garment, as it was one of the few that still fit my growing belly due to my determination to not buy any maternity specific garments.

I have worn more elastic in this season of my life than I ever thought possible and truthfully would previously have scorned.
It’s so funny how our priorities and perspectives shift.

Though I have to say that my priority to not buy fast-fashion hasn’t shifted in over a decade.
My 2015 social media saw me writing often about such things, in addition to this at the time never-talked-about “slow living” concept.
And while much of my wardrobe is comprised of vintage, antique and ethically/sustainably made slow fashion pieces, an almost even greater portion of it is simply secondhand.

Why am I sharing all of these somewhat rambling thoughts with you today?
I suppose I miss sharing more in depth long-form thoughts with you all here. Something I haven’t done for a while now.

But, at the end of the day, what the heart of this boils down to is that I still believe deeply in wearing clothing that brings you, and only you, joy.

Not dressing for the male (or female) gaze.
Not following trends.
Not buying temporary in-style one-time-wearable pieces.
But rather, buying clothing that is timeless. That you are going to love for a lifetime. Or if not, has inherent value and quality that lends itself to being resold or passed on to another person to prolong its usability and lifespan.

Which is what brings me to share this dress with you today— I bought this incredible 1920s lemon organza dress for myself, but admittedly it is not a piece that suits my current lifestyle (again… breast feeding…)
And because I currently have an entire closet full of clothes that don’t suit my current season of life (as well as a stack of very beloved 26”-27” waisted pants in my studio that I am secretly hoping that I will fit into again one day simply because they are some of my favorite pants…) so I have decided to list it for someone else to love and enjoy.

TLDR: Wear what you love, your waist size doesn’t matter.

You can find the above dress, at the button below.