Figure Happy

So I saw Alice In Wonderland 3D today with McPal and his boyfriend. We had a delicious time. The Cheshire Cat made the movie for me, particularly his attendance at the tea party. It was nice to get out. In particular it was extra nice because a new dress came in the mail today!

This dress is a work of art.
It's the things dreams are made of. *swoon*

I pretty much adore this dress like no one's business. It makes me all curvy 'n stuff. I threw on some brown fishnetty knee socks, black heeled Mary-Janes and hit the town like a sexy secretary. 'Tis also perfect for the height-lacking short-torsoed woman. Life is good.

Every month I treat myself to a new online little number. I'm thinking this one next, which is so very different from all my other more floofy dresses. But it's still mod and retro:

Plus it's got a high waist. Very promising.

Or potentially this adorable cardigan below. You can't see them too well from here, but in the cuffs of the sleeves are thumb holes!
You know, when I stopped fighting my body and trying to wear things I liked on the mannequin or the model, I became more more enthusiastic about fashion. My fashion. My style. I never really paid attention to my figure's quirks, other than the small breast part, because that's not something that escapes your attention. But actually taking a good look at my shape, the one I was born with, my frame, my bones, everything, makes me feel better.

I mean, it's the control thing, right? You think you can manage your appearance totally and so you try. And you invest emotional effort in it, physical effort and time, and denial and tears and worry. After taking stock of everything, most of the stuff I realized I had a beef with was out of my control. Most was nothing diet and exercise would fix for me. Short of drastic or impossible surgery, this was it. It was actually kind of freeing.

I've become a much better shopper for it over time, and a happier woman. That's not to say I don't use clothes to create an illusion about my body. It's just now I know what to buy to create said illusion. You know, rather than being trendy or lazy and hoping for the best and moping over the worst.

My bathing suit is still in the works. Round two at the tailors. It's now the right length and the cups are inserted into the chest, but... the neck strap is too long. Which means the cups are not sitting pretty at my boobies, but weighing heavy on my ribs just below my boobies. I told the seamstress that I was too young for my breasts to sit there. It was a glimpse into the distant future, actually. Grandma tits.

Soon. Soon it will be wearable. And then I can hurry up and wait for summer to come so I can actually wear it.