Last week, just a few hours after I wrote this post, I received an email from an editor that I am freelancing for this week. Expecting confirmation about dates and times, I was a bit thrown off when I read the actual contents:
“We may need you to be in one of the shots. Can you send me your shirt and pants sizes?”
As I typed out my response, nerves began to overwhelm me. What if I told her the wrong sizes? What if nothing fit? Clothing sizes are fickle anyway, and I ended up sending a range, because it so often depends on the brand and make of the item. Yet another reason to remember that the label is irrelevant.
Over the next few days, my anticipation grew, but not in a positive manner. Friends and family showered me with responses of how I would get to do something new and different. I smiled, I nodded. But truthfully, I was distracted: I couldn’t help agonizing over how the clothes would fit.
That is, until yesterday morning. As I was putting my makeup on to head to the shoot, I looked at myself firmly in the mirror and said, “Shut up.”
I’m a relatively introverted person, and I’ve become quite comfortable leaving my mark from behind the camera or beneath the written word. I’ve never wanted to model or perform, and I prefer to keep it that way. That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be in photographs.
How many times have you wrinkled your nose in disgust at a photo of yourself? Deleted pictures from a digital camera? Untagged yourself on Facebook? I am guilty of all of the above, and more.
As a fashion lover, I suppose I will always see my clothing as an extension of myself. I enjoy looking at photographs and reminiscing about my style at that particular moment, what it said about the person I was. But if I choose fashion as a means to express myself, it isn’t about the size on the tag. It’s about the message I want to put across, the relationship between each piece of the outfit, the thought that went into collecting and uniting the items.
I want to look at old photos and treasure the moments they capture, not the size I wore. If I notice my ensemble, it should be due to an interest in style, not an interest in the affect a belt had on the appearance of my hips.
I’ll put today’s shoot on a shelf of life experiences. I don’t know how I’ll look in the clothes. But I also know that it doesn’t matter.