Jan 242010
 

This originally appeared over at Edencafe.com, but I’m re-posting it here in hopes of some helpful comments and giving my thoughts more exposure.


As a little kid I can remember being quite the tomboy. I disliked Barbie Dolls. I preferred my toy guns and make-believe horses to baby dolls and playing dress-up. I can remember being just as dirty as a boy, with just as poor hygiene habits. Shameful, but true. Eventually peer pressure and friends ahead of me in terms of femme influenced my behavior (in other words: Junior High).

I can remember painting my nails. I can remember that it never lasted long, I picked even back then. I can remember owning numerous skirts and dresses. In fact, I had one year in High School where I wore little other than skirts and dresses to school. Why? No clue. I think perhaps I had just truly discovered that boys were attracted to my looks (and by looks I now realize it was more like my C cup tits). And of course I used to wear pantyhose a lot with those skirts and dresses. I owned numerous pairs of cute dress shoes. Not high fashion, mind you….. keep in mind this was the 90′s and High School girls then did NOT look like High School girls now (and HS girls these days are better at hair, make-up and stylish clothes than me. Aren’t I supposed to be more wise??).

And then it all tapered off again.

Recently I thought very hard as to why;  what happened, what was the catalyst?

Ahh yes. I can almost pinpoint it now. I gained weight slowly after my dad died. So slowly at first that I almost didn’t notice. I bought cheap, crappy “temporary” clothes because I was in denial. But then they became tight as well. In short order, I got fat.

The fatter I became, the less choices I had for clothing. The worse I felt, the worse I looked. I can remember a time period when I barely wore makeup, hell some days I didn’t even wear a proper bra! I worked retail jobs so my work clothes were a genderless outfit. I wasn’t a big social butterfly, so my other clothes weren’t that great because they didn’t need to be. I had a fiance who loved me and wanted me just the way I was, so what did it matter? It only mattered when I was occasionally around a certain friend who always looked pretty no matter what, who was thin and wore better clothes. I felt “dumpy” no matter how hard I tried, when I did try. I reverted back to my tomboy childhood ways and stopped caring. I scoffed at the women who got manicures. What a waste of money! How silly! I could spend that $50 on a computer part and be WAY happier! Oh how I laugh at that, now.

The catalyst for the revival of femme within myself was that I met someone online; my monogamous relationship opened up. For a while there though my style was half-femme half-slut. If it was low cut and sexy while still being flattering and covering up my bad spots, then it was for me. In some ways that is still my fashion sense. Over the next few years I slowly, very slowly, crept back into my femme.

Last year, meeting my then-Dom created an even bigger catalyst. He didn’t try to change me, he just saw the potential in me and he knew me – he knew that I saw the office women around the city and felt incredibly inferior and ugly. There’s so many women surrounding me that are SO put together. They looked like they had been through a grand makeover and came out as a shining example of what happens when a skilled stylist has a good canvas to work with. Classy, feminine, always in heels that are still going to be out of my reach.

He encouraged me to go get that manicure that I laughed at years ago, and after a few weeks of attempting on my own to transform my nails from raggedy jaggy stubs to healthy canvasses I gave in. I think I must have stopped to look at them 50 times in the first few days. Then I became minorly obsessed with the littlest hang-nail or chip in my polish. I always had my nailcare kit in my bag. Recently I’ve slacked off a little but I’m ready to get back into it for ME. I don’t want to look longingly at other classy, feminine, pretty women and be jealous. I want to BE one.

I managed to find a pair of “heels” that are femme and cute and make me feel better than my dressy Sketchers. Kitten heels, but its progress. I’ll never wear the towering heels, because my body/feet just can’t do it. But I’ll keep on the lookout for more like these heels.

It’s been years since I would allow myself to leave the house without the basics in makeup, but I need someone experienced to teach me the finer points of being polished. I want to learn more eye make-up styles. And oh my hair…..my poor hair. I have the fine/thin unruly hair of a stylist’s nightmares. Either I am completely unskilled or my hair will just never have that polished feminine look. The 35 different hair products cluttering up my tiny bathroom are a testament though that I try.

I’m still fat. I’m still thoroughly discouraged by my clothes and the clothes that I can find in my size that are equally flattering, age-appropriate, and the right blend of sexy and classy. Perhaps if I had more money to spend on clothes, then I would dress myself the way I want. But for now, the only way that I see out is to lose a lot of weight. And man, that’s about as depressing as looking inside my own closet.

Maybe not. Maybe I just need a mentor. A Femme Guru. Send me to finishing school where I learn to walk in heels with a book balanced on my head.


Or just fuckin nominate me for “What Not to Wear”.



  • SteelHorseman

    The femme is there. She was always there. Inside you, wanting to be wanted. Wanting to be adored.
    I don’t have advice on what to wear or on what not to wear. But I will share with you and your readers that this man has seen your pictures here and finds you beautiful.
    The women you see who are so “polished”. They go through all of that to cover their own flaws. Whether physical or internal.

  • http://beesandtheirknees.blogspot.com Bee’s Knees

    Jesus, I SO FEEL YOU.

    I’m sitting in a tshirt and jeans, my usual weekend attire. I wear a jacket to cover up my jiggly arms and love handles. I cover myself up. Occasionally I find a top or nice dress that I’m comfortable wearing…but it struck me when you said that you feel as though losing weight is the only answer. I’m there with you, Lilly.

    I personally think the “answer” (whatever the hell that means) is somewhere in between. Maybe losing a bit of weight would make us feel a bit more comfortable again in our own bodies. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t flaunt the goods that we have RIGHT NOW. We’re strong and beautiful women, no matter what we wear.

  • http://beesandtheirknees.blogspot.com Bee’s Knees

    And P.S. I’ll nominate you for What Not to Wear if you nominate me :) That show is definitely a guilty pleasure of mine. Mostly because I cry with the women who experience that transformation, and want to be able to feel that, too.

  • http://kittykillkill@wordpress.com kittykillkill

    I bet you were just as sexy back then (tomboy or not) as you are now.

  • http://www.betweenmysheets.com Rori

    Girl, we need to go shopping! I’m not a size 2 and I definitely don’t have much money to spend on clothing, but I LOVE dressing up. It’s not about your size, it’s just about finding what looks good on you. :)

  • http://www.iveylane.blogspot.com Ivey Lane

    Oh my darling Lilly! I understand this feeling more than I can properly express. In my case, I was a “pudgy” tomboy ducking, who grew into being a sexy swan but DIDN’T KNOW IT. My constant battle with weight and the constant inner-monologue / comparisons that go with it made enjoying physicality impossible. Then in my 30s I started to gain weight again, very much like you described, only without any lucious C cups. I had become “frumpy”. Over the past few years I’ve come around again; I’m still a “big girl” but excercise has changed my shape if not affected my weight very much, and I’m able to once again, enjoy sexy, attractive clothing.

    And the strange thing, for as forward thinking, independent and tough as I am, I LOVE being pretty, sexy, and fashionable. It truly changes the way I feel and percieve myself.

  • Nevar

    You’ve found your identity, and you want more for your life. You want to change your life for YOU, not the people around you. That should be applauded, not taken away by being told you’re fine the way you are. It’s a great and rewarding feeling to reach a point in your life that you matter to you. It makes the rest of your life infinitely better. It makes your successes whether trivial or great more personally rewarding to you.

    The world shouldn’t be seen in black and white or many shades of gray. It’s in its sometimes grotesque wretched twisted color that should be appreciated regardless. Life isn’t about would have could have should have beens, it’s what simply is. It’s about what matters to you and that gives you your simply is…

  • Lannay

    I understand 100% what you are saying.

    I’ve slowly gained 100 lbs in the 13 years since my brother died. 6 years ago it finally clicked that I was fat and unhealthy and so so sad, I hated who I had become.
    I tried everything..and I mean everything. A personal trainer who pushed me too hard, wrecked my back AND who I only managed to lose 5 lbs with. More diet pills than you can shake a stick at! Special food diets, nutritionists, excercise equipment that cost me a fortune.

    Last year in October my aunt steered me towards this all natural (no ephedra no caffeine) supplement she found and since then I have lost 40 lbs. I have energy, I don’t feel the urge to eat all the time, when I do eat I feel full faster, I’m able to regulate my emotional eating better.
    I’m at 240 and I actually feel pretty again. I still have a long way to go but I am bound and determined that by June I WILL wear a swimsuit.

    I’ve noticed that I’ve started taking better care of myself now, I wear makeup more often, I’m doing my nails, shaving my legs and wearing pretty skirts, doing my hair instead of throwing it in a ponytail.

    And I love myself again.

    But I’ve also come to realize that if I never get any smaller, if I stay this size for the rest of my life…I still need to love myself regardless….and I need to love myself before I can let anyone else love me. I feel a bit ashamed that I had forgotten that.

    So regardless your size, love yourself, take care of yourself…you’re an amazing woman!

    ~ this comment makes me happy. really happy. it’s so easy though to not love ourselves, when we have so many outside influences telling us otherwise. i’m glad you found yourself again!

  • Vanilla Kinks

    I’ve always been a tomboy. I never wore dresses or skirts growing up. I was a t-shirt and jeans kinda gal. Hell, I dressed like that until a couple months ago.

    I finally found my femme, but I couldn’t let go of the tomboy that I have known for 31 years, so I combined the two. I threw away all of my t-shirts. ALL OF THEM! Every last one. And I replaced them with girly shirts I found at thrift stores, or on sale at places like Lane Bryant. Knits, crinkles, sweaters. Everything low cut to flatter my best body part; my boobs. I went to ever store with clothes in my size, and tried on every pair of jeans I could find until I found a pair that were 1) the best possible fit, and 2) the most dressy. I managed to keep my beloved jeans to satisfy the tomboy in me, but now they are dressier and more girly. Then I took my tomboy tennis shoe self, and forced myself to buy a pair of heels. Heels that would look damn awesome with a pair of dark, trouser cut jeans, and a more girly, dressy shirt. And what do you know? I LOVE the way I dress now. I feel confident and sexy and so good in my skin.

    I’m not a small girl. I’m never going to be a small girl. I realized it was time to dress my body for what it is rather than clothes to “just get me by” until I lost weight.

    Do I meet society’s definition of beautiful? No, but that’s fine by me. I’ve met MY definition of beautiful, and I’m finding a lot of people out there agree with me!

    ~ Yes! This is exactly what I’m talking about :) I’m still trying to find that perfect pair of jeans, though. I’d have much better choices if only I were 5’8″ instead of 5’4ish” though.