Nothing ever fits right! Wish I was skinny....

Have lots of you ever thought or said this phrase out loud?

There was a brief time when I was a size four.  I, strangely, started to miss my extra curves, but the shopping experience was AWESOME!  Everything fit!!  And I mean everything.  I just picked up a size four and it fit.  It seems once you wander past that size, everything seems to go wrong doesn't it?

Among the many things I've managed to do in my short time out of college, I worked in a couture fabric store.  I had a friend who was a clothing designer, and I got all kinds of dirt on the manufacturing of clothes.

Ignorance is bliss, except when it comes to women trying on clothes.

Some days this is me:

Then other days it's a total crash landing.....

But let me educate you on the production of clothing in our country and it might make you feel a little better.

As we all know too well (especially with Ralph Lauren being so brazen as to manufacture our Olympic uniforms in China) the majority of our clothes are not made in America.  There are a couple of ways that a company can choose to handle its production.

You see, each race of woman is constructed differently.  We have huge varying degrees of "typical" measurements.  The example I like to use that is easiest to understand is the apex measurement.  The apex measurement is literally from nipple to nipple.

European women tend to have wide apexes, American women tend to be somewhere in between, and Asian woman (surprise!) are the smallest.  If a company does all of its fitting overseas, then they are basing their fit on Asian women.  Now this doesn't mean that there is no cross over between races.  I'm as white as can be my but apex is that of a typical Asian woman, which means I have absolutely no problem finding shirts that fit great.  The hips on the other hand.....

Everyone jokes that there are "black women" stores.  That's for a reason.  Black women also tend to have different typical measurements.  So, in other words, some companies are trying to force all women into an Asian mold and it just ain't gonna happen.

If you move up in value in your clothing a little you will start to find that the fit is better because they do the fittings in America...with American women.  That doesn't mean that everything will fit properly, but you stand a better chance.  

They have to eventually settle on a standard size for clothing, but stores like Express are exploring different body types as lines of clothing.  Nothing fits me better than a pair of Express curvy cut jeans.

So now you know.  So when you freak out over clothes not fitting in a store, leave that store.  All of their measurements are going to be based on the same fit model, and if that fit model doesn't fit you then don't waste your time.  The key is to find a store that you like that has your typical body measurements down to a science and stick with it.

Just one more weapon for shopping......other than an emotional cup of ice cream at the end of it all to make it all better.   

Bikinis, Texas

So this is an article that came out today:

http://www.inquisitr.com/279437/bikinis-texas-restaurant-owner-changes-name-of-bankersmith-to-bikinis/

The gist of it is that some rich guy bought a town not too far from my hometown.  There haven't been any inhabitants of this town for some time, so he's going to fix it up and rename it.  It shall be named...

Bikinis, Texas

There was one time when I was out of college, and I had a very unbearable living situation.  I couldn't get out though, because I didn't make enough money to survive on my own.  I was desperate, and I started to drive.

I was going to get a job at Hooters.

I couldn't think of a faster, easier way for me to make some quick money.  I mean, other than drugs or stripping, right?  I knew a girl in high school who worked at Hooters.  So this is what I had been brought to.  I literally cried on my way there.  For me, ultra conservative, this might have well been stripping.

Let's just say I got my head on straight and turned the car around.  I never worked at Hooters.  Or Twin Peaks.  Or Big Racks.  Or Tilted Kilt.  Who can name another one??

Then as I was pursuing my career in film acting, I had a big callback for a TV show.  The basis of the show was that I was to be the "girl next door" host type.  I would need to have the ability to write my own scripts, interview on the fly and in exchange I would travel around filming locations that originated types of alcohol.  For those not in the acting world, a "callback" is like a second interview.  It means you might very well get the job.

The original audition consisted of me opening with a script I'd written then doing an interview.  The New York director and producer were watching live via Skype.  So when I got the callback, I was excited. Until I opened the email.

In the email was a link to a clip of previous shows with the last host.  It was then that I discovered that the host was really not a vital role and in fact was merely there to keep the show going while girls in tiny bikinis took body shots off of each other and pranced around half naked acting ditzy and drunk.

I didn't go to the callback.

I called my agent and said I didn't want to participate.

This is probably how people would picture me.  Homely.  Like I protest these things because I'm ugly, and I wouldn't be able to even qualify to be one of these girls.

Lame.  And just another judgmental joke that is thrown in our faces. 

But as long as there are women willing to do anything, these sorts of institutions will continue.  Think about it.  If every woman said "no," what could these business owners do?  Absolutely nothing.  They wouldn't exist.

As women we don't have enough inner positive thinking to dismiss such an opportunity.  Imagine if we thought this way:

"I look great!" "I'm a smart girl."  "There are other girls just as pretty or even prettier, but there's only one me.  And that's a valuable asset."

If we had all of these positive thoughts running through our minds, we wouldn't have enough room for a lame compliment.  If you have your own fantastic thoughts about yourself then some stranger saying, "Hey honey, you look hot" doesn't nearly measure up to "I'm an accomplished learner who is pretty, a good listener, and caring towards people."  We're assuming that you ARE nice to people....I'll follow that up in another blog for another day..... 

So let's encourage each other to fill our days with positive thinking instead of empty searches for artificial attention. 

What Does a Man Want?

Perky, huge boobs.  Tiny waist.  Little hips with a perfectly round butt.  Thighs without cellulite.  Long, thin legs.  Thick long hair.  Pouty lips.  Big eyes that are any color but brown with long, thick lashes.  Something like this, right?

















Now stop!!!

Take a deep breath.  You just listed everything that YOU tell a man he wants.  Would a man refuse the dream woman?  Of course not!  But that's not necessarily what he wants.  Let's be fair.  A real man wants a real woman.

You think he notices every little flaw, every little detail that drives you nuts and makes you want to cry or have lipo suction on a regular basis?  Come on now....he doesn't even notice when you get a haircut, does he?

(I would like to take this moment to insert that I am the least observant woman ever and am often beat out by even men noticing details.)

So here's the great thing about guys: they see the big picture.  He doesn't see the cellulite like you do.  He doesn't notice that your panties cause a dent in your love handles thus causing you to have the appearance of not two big hips but FOUR.  As women we're designed to focus on the details, and men are designed to see the big picture.  It's one of the many fascinating ways that we perfectly balance each other.

Wanna know what he REALLY notices?  How pretty you know you are naturally.

Men see through fake self confidence with amazing x-ray abilities.  Depending upon the guy they either take advantage of a girl trying too hard, or (if they're interested in something long lasting) they look for a girl who can shower walk out the door in 15 minutes flat while still exuding that glow of inner beauty.

Sure, there are an enormous amount of men who are pigs.  I'm not denying that.  But in my little world, we don't men bash.  And what's more important.....

The right guy loves you even when you're a hot mess.  In fact, he will absolutely confuse the hell out of you by complimenting you right after you've have one of your secret crying sessions about your weight, wondering how he could possibly find you attractive, and wishing for that lipo wand again.

Here's my challenge for you today: when a man compliments you, BELIEVE HIM.

Quit with your mind games.

Man: Wow, you look great!

Most Women's Minds:  "He's lying."  "He's doesn't know what he's talking about."  "What does he want from me?"  "He's just manipulating me to get me in a better mood."  "He obviously hasn't looked close enough today...."  Blah, blah, blah.

Correct Woman's Mind:  "Oh, that's so nice.  Guess I do look great!"

I'm sure I'll talk a lot more about positive thinking later, but let's start with this tiny but VERY difficult challenge.

Hey, by the way....you look great today  :-)

Munching Numbers

I wait patiently for the next woman.  I see her rounding the corner.  She ducks her head, chuckles uncomfortably, and slowly makes her way towards me.  In her eyes is sheer fear...possibly light tears.  She looks to me like I am bound to embarrass her and prey upon her insecurities.  She rubs her sweaty palms down the side of her pants.  She can't avoid it any longer.

"Be nice.  I've been on a diet.  And I'm trying to lose weight.  Do you need me to suck in?  Can you plan on me losing 20lbs in the next three weeks?"

...or...

"I have nothing up top.  This is all bra.  Is that a problem?  I'm sorry."

"Don't change a thing," I reply.

And I really don't want her to change anything.  Why?  Because I'm her costumer.  And if she really does lose 20lbs in the next three weeks or suddenly get a boob job my entire design and fit will be terribly off.  But who can blame her fright?  I've made her confront the one thing women hate the most: a tape measure.

So let's get real and honest.  I'll start.  My current measurements are 37/29/39, I'm 5'4", and I weigh 143lbs.  I'm a 34DD and approximately a size 8.  

GASP!

I know, I know.  I weigh more than 110lbs, AND I confessed it.  What is the world coming to?!

I have been a professional costumer for going on eight years now.  I have seen A LOT of measurements.  They don't scare me...most days.  I'll admit I'd rather be munching on a Snickers bar than munching on my own numbers.  This is the classic reaction to my measurements:

"You don't look like you weigh that much."

Women.  Really.  Why do we say things like that to each other?  You ever notice that if a woman tells another woman she looks like she's lost weight, it's automatically a compliment?  Sometimes I have the strange desire to suddenly freak out that I've lost weight and immediately start planning on how to gain it back.  Just to gauge a reaction.  Perhaps you should say instead, "You're looking great these days."  Now, your fellow woman's response will most likely automatically be, "Thanks, I've been on a diet."

Don't be afraid of your numbers.  I know this is what we want to be like:

But this is probably closer to the truth:

And that's OK!  You have one life.  Don't live it obsessing.  Do what you can, love your numbers, and move on.

What are your numbers?  Can you admit them without crying, hitting a wall with your head, or giggling uncomfortably?  Try it.  Say them out loud.  Tell them to another woman like it ain't no thang but a chicken wing.  

Mmmm.....chicken wings.......

An Introduction

Allow me to introduce myself.  I'm a 30 year old woman experienced in the wild dating world, an independent little working bee, and a sort of self-proclaimed all around artist.  I grew up in south Texas, attended a private Christian University, and made the terribly regrettable decision to obtain a bachelor's degree in Theater.

I decided to start this blog as an outlet for women.  Real women.  Just like me.  Not the high maintenance girls you find at the bar looking for a man to spend money on her.  I'm plain Jane.  I get up, go to work (most days without make-up), take care of my puppy, spend time with my boyfriend, and try to pay my bills on time.

I spent several years very actively pursuing a career in film acting until one day I stopped.  Cold turkey.  My desire went slack.  That was it.  I was tired of the demands placed on actresses and women in general by those know-it-alls behind the wobbly tables and tired cameras.  They were running my life, and I was tired of it.  It was time for me to run my own life.

In this blog, I will share my stories, daily experiences, and everything that goes into being a woman in this ridiculous and fickle culture we've developed here in America.

Welcome to Beauty and the Curves.