Gang, it’s not about the avoirdupois, it’s the geometry of my bones. Well, it’s mostly not about the avoirdupois. I’m at peace with my figure. It’s not what it used to be, sure, but genetics, disciplined eating, and moderate activity keep me within boundaries for health and societally accepted shape.
However, I think it’s possible to like your body well enough, and still prefer the silhouette certain kinds of clothes give you. And in my case, narrow hips and shortish legs mean that, after my shoulders, upper thighs are the broadest part of my body. Hence, what I refer to as the Bowling Pin Effect. Skinny jeans bring it on.
Not my favorite. Would look great on those of you long of leg, short of waist, or narrow of shoulder.
Let’s say I wanted to wear a slightly longer top. How about an Ann Mashburn button front and some Jeffrey Campbell platforms for leg-lengthening?
Nope. The hem dips where it should rise, and vice versa.
But surely there’s a way! How about a long Bompard cashmere tunic? Technically a sweater dress, but hey, belt it! Lord knows why I have a black grommeted belt in my drawer, but I do. Pull on the Isabel Marant Dickers.
A bit better. I don’t generally care for over-belting, as it provokes fussing and fidgeting, not to mention clothes riding up or riding down incorrectly. For example, the way the sweater is caught up above my bustline? That’s bound to happen over and over. Still, this outfit was good enough that I left it on for a while. And guess what I realized.
Skinny jeans are skinny because they are Tight. A brilliant observation, right? That’s a lot of tough fabric constraining some generally softer parts. Sturdy Gals can take their sturdiness only so far.
And there we have it. I’ll be over here with Rachel Zoe waiting for my favorite trouser trends to return. But if skinnies work for your silhouette, I recommend you stay the course, even through the inevitable Trough of Disillusionment. This is not a post on self-dislike; it is more evidence that everyone ought to trust their sartorial gut.