Where You Born At The Wrong Time?

Did you ever think as a woman that you were born in the wrong time in the wrong generation just because of your body type? 

Living in a tropical area I see women’s young scantily clad bodies every day – everywhere. There are countless faux hourglass figures on tiny little women, tall thin females, all with the biggest breasts and bottoms I have ever seen. They are all flaunting  everything I was hiding as a teenager. Why, oh why, was I born too early with the naturally proportioned right stuff for today’s beauty standards? 

All of this occurred to me as I was standing, daydreaming while Sofi was stopping every three minutes getting her ‘smell fixes’ along the tropical streets in my neighborhood. The wind began to blow, brushing my skirt against my ankles and I started thinking about how I love long skirts and maxi dresses and how as a BoHo style woman I have lived to see myself evolve through so many different fashion phases. 

 I started going back in thought about how throughout the years I have matured to have finally found my own fashion style. I wished, as a young woman, I had had more confidence to dress for myself instead of trying to follow the trends that never fit my body type.  

I grew up in the 40s and 50s and and lived through wearing boy Levi’s that in order to get a size that fit my hips the waist was just ‘genormous’. I had to borrow a belt from my brother, pulling it as tight as I could, resulting in unsightly lumps of bulky blue jean material all around my waist. I weighed only 119 pounds, was 5 foot 7, but I thought I was cursed to have curves in all the wrong places.

Then there were my high school and college years and the pencil skirts. They were the bane of my genetic existence. If you didn’t have a flat derrière you looked ridiculous in a pencil skirt. Every magazine I opened from Vogue to Seventeen had these beautiful girls with flat bottoms looking terrific in their pencil skirts.  

I did side leg lifts while holding onto my dresser and actually bounced on my derrière all around my bedroom hoping to flatten my rear projection so that I could look marvelous in my pencil skirts. Of course nothing worked to alter my genetic hindsight. I wanted to walk backwards everywhere.

Finally the 70’s came to my rescue. Bell bottoms and long vests were in  fashion and saved me a bit, then longer suit jackets and pant suits through the 80’s and 90’s arrived and were flattering to my figure type.

 Those forgiving fashions also got me through my menopause poundage ups and downs. But it really wasn’t until long skirts burst onto the fashion scene that my own sense of style began to awaken. I came out of the closet. I am  a long skirt BoHo woman who has once and for all found her fashion space. And think of it. It only took me about 60 years! 

I can honestly say one great positive thing we can all agree on about getting older is one cares less and less about what other people think and more and more about one’s own comfortable space. 

 

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