When I received the first DM from the team at Plus Size Fashion Fashion Week inviting me to walk the runway as a model during the event’s fashion show, I screamed “Yes”! I was so excited that someone had looked at my Instagram feed and thought, “This girl is right for the job.” I was flattered, __ and to be honest, my ego was stroked – a lot. This happened a week to the show and I was basically floating on a cloud of beauty, at which I sat at the top.
Then the anxiety kicked in. Yes models seem to just walk down a runway, but there’s art involved. “I’m barely getting out of the habit of hunching my back and now I must strut like a millionaire cat!” I thought. Not to mention that there was a bit of conflict. I’m a journalist who was supposed to cover that very event, not participate as a model! I was suddenly thrown out of my comfortable high horse of judging the fashion like I liked to. Would I do it the same now that I had been up-close and personal with the garments?
I immediately begun to regret my decision, just a little bit. On one hand I wanted to call and quit, but on the other – the bigger hand was telling me this was an opportunity I couldn’t let go. Who would think that me, chubby little me would be asked to runway model? I had made a commitment, I was going to stick with it. And I could cover the story just fine from backstage, what was I worried about?
Well the D day came and I was a ball of nerves. I started the dangerous game of comparing myself to the other women there, who are objectively stunning. I started to worry about whether to smile or be stone faced, I worried about what pose I would make at the end of the runway, what if people saw the scar on my leg? Aren’t models supposed to be perfect?
I internalized all this and pushed through the day with a smile on my face (except for the runway, I had oddly decided stone-faced for that catwalk moment). I managed to have so much fun! After strutting down the first round I was pumped to continue doing so. I made a couple of new friends who were absolutely gorgeous had a friend cheering me on in the crowd, everything seemed right.
When I got home that evening, I couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable I felt putting words to what I experienced. I noticed how much less anxious I felt walking up to designers, models and guests and asking about the show. It wasn’t easier but I had more control.
I asked myself why I couldn’t have just said “no” to the offer when it arrived. I have a habit of saying yes to every opportunity that comes my way even if it spreads me a little too thin. Is it that I don’t like to disappoint? The answer to all this, I conclude, is No. I had a completely different motivation for saying yes.
All my life I’ve been the short chubby girl and while dealing with that was annoying for a while (the teasing and subsequent self esteem issues), it just was my reality. I love fashion and put my energy more into creating than being the front and centre, and I’m genuinely happy in that lane. While modelling and getting my hair and makeup done was super fun, I did it for the wrong reasons. I wanted to shove it up anyone who’d ever made fun of me, to prove to some invisible critic that I could do it. I was excited about the platform, a space where plus size women were celebrated without bias, where designers were put to the task of dressing women with unpredictable curves; but I felt the need to prove a point to my past, to show that my future was to be celebrated rather than hidden. Would I do it again? Maybe. I bask in any opportunity to express my love for fashion, so I might. But since I proved my point, I know next time it would be purely for the love of it.
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