I usually don't like to go too off-topic with this blog, but starting a whoooole other blog to visit seemed silly for one post and in a way, I think this is a glimpse of the bigger picture when it comes to my Cool Girl Problem.
I'm an actor and booked a job. A good one. The kind you want to get out here in L.A. When it comes to getting in contact with the wardrobe department on Film & TV gigs for the first time, I always end up being a bit anxious. As I've mentioned before, I am a chubby girl, pretty much right on the median size for American Women (14/16) but waaaaay in the minority for Actresses. I'm short, which complicates things for people who've never seen me before, hence the apprehension when describing my sizes to someone over the phone. For the majority of my experiences, my anxiety has been futile and those in Wardrobe become my favorite peeps, right behind Hair & Make-up. And then, something like today's events happen.
Coming from the world of Theatre, where clothes are built months ahead of time and every piece of clothing crafted specifically to your body, down to the tracing and measuring of your FEET, to a girl like me, this business of TV styling seems like a whirlwind. For example, I was supposed to shoot this morning and my first fitting was late yesterday afternoon. Time is not a luxury. I understand that the details cannot be taken on sometimes under these circumstances and I am harrrrdly the lead of this thing, so certainly I do not expect mountains to be moved for lil ol' me.
However, when I offer to have my most recent measurements sent over and a designer refuses and says "Just let me ask you for some sizes," red flags arise. Never once did she ask where I shop. Never once did she ask what I like to wear. "Just bring me some of your things to the fitting." These mainly say to me, "I don't know how to dress a cow like you."
Please do not think for a minute that I do not realize I am projecting. These are my fears I am manifesting into defensive thoughts. These are so similar to my running Cool-Girl Tape, I cannot begin to TELL you. That being said, all of the things bought for me in that first fitting did not fit; shirt buttons were stretching, skirts were snug at best, there was not a Spanx to be found! I was getting a sense that this designer was resenting having to dress a Plus-Size girl, who must've lied about her sizes over the phone.
Today, this hunch was confirmed.
"I'm going to go to Lane Bryant tomorrow," she'd said after the failed first attempt. "What size are you there?" Now, I don't SHOP at Lane Bryant because clothes generally do not FIT me there. Things are usually altogether long, including in the shoulder and the torso so I said, "Definitely a 14. And everything will be big. If they have a petite line, you may want to look at that." "Oh, we can alter things." Over the phone, she said she didn't want to alter anything because of time. Hmm.
Today, after waiting a half an hour for her to arrive, she came in like a tornado with stories of woe and I genuinely felt terrible about her situation. So many hurdles to go through. She managed to get very cute dresses for me, and they were big but not awful and the sweaters that I swam in, she pinned back. One was one of those tent sweaters with no armpits that I'm guessing was 3 sizes too big and she made a comment about taking some fabric out; I playfully added, "Yeah, and put an armpit IN!" She turned all school marm on me and said, "Well, we can always take away fabric, so bigger is good." I think I bit my tongue until I tasted blood and said, "Well, my dad's a costumer and I grew up building clothes, so I know how that works."
Then came the pants portion of the fitting. First up was a pair of dressy legging-pants. If you are on my facebook page ever, you will know how I THINK LEGGINGS AS PANTS ARE AWFUL. As I put on a pair, I basically told her that. Even the long sweater she put over them did not cover the awful highlighting of my cellulite the polyester blend provided. I said, "Could I just try the slacks?" (God, that's a word only my dad still uses.) The crotch on these pants were so short, it made me think they were a low rise which again, I voiced my opinion of- "Why do they even make these in big sizes?!" She said, "The crotch isn't that short; maybe you need a bigger size." Actually, I DON"T need a bigger size; I NEED A REGULAR RISE PANT.
Now, the piece de resistance that she was so excited to show me was a faux-silk tank in a great print and she warned me it was not in my size at all, but she loved it so much she bought it and figured we could adjust it. It was a size 24. I am a 14. I can only imagine she's never bought a size 12 for a size 2 actress because she loved the fabric... ANYwho, it was a tent. She pinned the sides but my armpit holes will be humongous still. I started to play with the front, gathering it so maybe with a small accordion pleat under the bust, it could create an empire waist which at LEAST give it shape. She caught on and a grabbed a tie to wrap around me, "Oh, we can find a ribbon like that; that'll be cute!" It will be. If they can get it done. I hope they do.
So we were wrapping it up, both thanking the other for their patience, etc., and she says, exasperated, "I'm glad it worked out because, there are 3 Plus-sized girls on this shoot so...only so many looks at the Lane Bryant to choose from." It was her worst nightmare, apparently. As if that was the only store Plus-sized girls could shop in. And theeeeen, she said this:
"You know, next time, when you give your sizes, you really should say that you need fabrics with stretch in them or that they have to go to up to an 18."
I blinked. Several times. And with every ounce of patience God graced with me in the moment said this:
"Yeah, I know that my body can be tricky...I mean, who knows better than me- I shop for myself! But that's why I wanted you to have all my measurements because once you see them, you get a better idea of what you're working with."
She "Oh'd" me and said she understood. I highly, highly doubt that she would understand ANY of my measurements if she DID get them.
By the way, on every other job I've had, a designer HAS pulled an 18 for me on top of the 14/16's that I give as an average size. They'll bring an 1X instead of an XL because buying clothes for a stranger is difficult. NEVER ONCE HAVE I HAD SOMEONE SUGGEST I SHOULD WARN SOMEONE ABOUT MY SIZE AHEAD OF TIME.
I'm doing my best to meet this experience with Grace, to see how feeling attacked is only because my ego wants to be right. The bigger picture is, I am not in the best shape I can be, food is still a major addictive trigger for me and I am not pursuing dating at all because I am not enjoying being in my skin. A dear friend sent a funny text about a three-some to me the other day and I retorted, "I have a hard enough time being naked with ONE person, thankyouverymuch." He, very simply, responded, "Release that." I laughed hard after tearing up a bit at the simple truth of it.
