You know how whales are huge and blubbery? Well, those are two words I would use to describe how I’ve been feeling all week this week, which would be fine if it were any other week and I could shroud myself in big sweaters and leggings. But since life is hard and I can’t have the things that I want, this week is New York Fashion Week, a.k.a. Dress Your Best Week, a.k.a. Sara, You’re Going To Get Your Ass Into Those Skinny Jeans If It Kills You Week. As you might imagine, it’s not exactly been a delight.
Everyone has what I lovingly call “fat weeks.” They’re weeks when, no matter what you eat or wear and no matter how much you do or don’t exercise, you just feel like it would be easier for everyone if you rented yourself a wheelbarrow and hired a burly man to roll you everywhere you want to go. Since I feel like we’ve gotten to know each other, I feel totally comfortable telling you all that I always have a bit of a fat week the week before I get my period. So, you know, that’s what’s happening in my life.
Normally, weeks like this aren’t a problem. I just deal with them (read: wear looser clothes and use it as a weird and completely not legit excuse to snack on everything in sight) and move on. But spending NYFW around stunning models with enviably perfect bodies makes it difficult to keep everything in perspective. I bet THEY never have fat weeks, I think to myself. Their version of fat week is being a size 2 rather than a size 0. Oh, what a life THAT must be.
Because, you see, I only really get bitter about my weight when I’m surrounded by people who are naturally thin (or, at least, people I think are naturally thin—I really have no way of knowing a person’s body type without outright asking them about it). For some reason, whenever I’m around thinner people, I always feel like the only thing anyone notices about me is just how thin I’m not.
This, of course, only happens around other women—the classic female comparison problem rears its ugly head once more—which is probably for the best considering I only date guys who are thinner than I am. I guess I can’t help but think, If these girls can look the way they do, why can’t I? And when I’m already feeling heavier than usual, you can imagine how much that feeling is amplified at an event such as NYFW. If you can’t, here’s a visual aid:
I wish I could say that I know how irrational I’m being and that there’s a silver lining to all of this, like how I could actually take something positive away from watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, but I feel pretty defeated this time. I’m not going to blame my PMS (even though I’m sure that’s a contributing factor), but this was just not the week to be surrounded by literal models. I literally wore jeggings to work today because I couldn’t emotionally handle real pants digging into my torso. So…I don’t know. I guess that’s it. I know that the moral of the story should be to not let other people’s appearances get you down or make you second-guess yourself, but everyone’s allowed to have their weak moments, even writers of columns such as these.