This year I decided I will not avoid bathing suits! I didn’t wear one last year, but I own some two pieces, and have been wearing them at home (indoors, alone) to get used to the idea again. Surprisingly, I am quite the prude when it comes to showing skin in public, and I prefer to be well-covered. Along with the idea of wearing teensy stretchy pieces of fabric among others, is the idea of fitness.
I am not at my most fit. I am tall, 5’9″, one small inch away from my model and workout video icon, Cindy Crawford– and while I don’t aim to be a modelesque size 00, I do want to feel confident. The past few weeks have been exhausting and I’ve been eating poorly. I feel pretty terrible about my body, which is such a disappointment as a feminist, healthy-body-image-rant-spouting woman who wants everyone, of every size, to feel great as they are.
I started working out, which I will detail in my soon-to-come June list update, and decided to take some before and after photos tonight. I like scientific procedures! Expecting the worst, I stood in front of the camera in my underwear.*
And it wasn’t that bad! I have muscular legs, a big butt, curvy hourglass shape, and a bit of a tummy, but I do not look like the gigantic balloon that I thought I would. While it’s not a sign that I should switch to milkshakes instead of morning workouts, I’m relieved to see myself realistically once again and to regain the confidence that I want all other women to feel.
One of my favorite blogs, I Married a Pornographer, posted about the issue of bikinis and she links to a NY Times article that is also thought-provoking. Why do we put itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikinis (and their wearers) on a pedestal?
Imagine what would happen if a model in 2011 was photographed with a little tummy roll showing like Miss Monroe:
*No, I will not be posting said pictures