I purchased a $200 costume the opposite day. I do know, I do know, I work at Vogue, so this may sound like an announcement on par with “I turned oxygen into carbon dioxide,” however enable me to elucidate. I truly have not traditionally spent a lot cash on clothes, partly as a result of different issues (like takeout, pure wine, and Lyfts to golf equipment I do not truly wish to go to) at all times appear to take priority, and partly as a result of—to be sincere—I’m virtually at all times on a food plan, dutifully plugging my meals and train items into Weight Watchers and dreaming of the day when my physique will lastly, magically turn into smaller. What’s the purpose of shopping for fancy garments that can be too large quickly?, I ask myself, ignoring a) the opportunity of tailoring and b) the long-term futility of most diets. When I do purchase garments, they’re usually from Beacon’s Closet or Poshmark or another resale store, as a result of, properly…I’m in diet-culture hell, however I’m additionally low cost.
I want I may say I used to be penning this from the vaulted vantage level of getting lastly kicked my weight-reduction plan behavior and accepted myself, however…come on. What I’ve completed just lately, although, is determined I deserve one merchandise of clothes that makes me really feel actually, actually good after I put on it. My birthday is developing in every week, so in accordance with my former colleague Estelle Tang’s system of shopping for a yearly “birthday dress”, I clicked “buy” on a lime-green costume from Wray, a New York-based clothes line that provides sizes starting from XXS to 6XL.
I wore my new costume out for what I wish to name an “Emma day” final weekend, donning it to stroll from Bed-Stuy to Carroll Gardens for brand spanking new books, a seafood lunch, a solo afternoon exhibiting of Zola, and a celebration or two within the night. The complete time, I felt like I used to be another person—**somebody who had truly made an effort in her look—**but additionally extra “me” than I’d been in months. For the previous few months, I used to be one of many many who’d fallen sufferer to pandemic-induced “blah” dressing, hardly ever altering out of the identical previous torn leggings (or bike shorts, in hotter months), and placing on one thing new and treating myself to a day trip felt—on the threat of sounding cliché—like sinking right into a scorching tub set to the right temperature. The skirt of my new costume flared out dramatically, the puffed sleeves added a touch of caprice, and when my server on the oyster bar complimented the costume’s shade of inexperienced, I gratefully accepted it with out providing certainly one of my trademark self-deprecating deflections.
When I began to really feel responsible about spending 200 {dollars} on a costume when I’ve automobile insurance coverage funds and a cross-country transfer to finance, I reminded myself—as I so typically do—of Shrill. Specifically, the third episode of the Aidy Bryant-led Hulu present’s first season, wherein protagonist Annie (Bryant) spots a stunning lady on the road. The lady, who’s performed by plus-size mannequin Hunter McGrady, is fats, indisputably so, and clad in a drop-dead scarlet jumpsuit, eye-catching equipment, and thoroughly styled hair and make-up. Unable to cease herself, Annie quietly follows the girl as she walks right into a flower store, seemingly simply to buy one thing that might make her pleased.
