"The Style Of Me"
The Story Of How My Style Evolved
How I Use It To Control My Confidence
& Body Image
Taught to Hate Myself
Emily Doll TVD
My mom says that I could match an outfit from a mile away in my stroller. It's always been my thing I guess, style and fashion. I'm really the only girl in our family that cares about it. It's been my way of self expression, my outlet, my way of therapy at times. When I was little I would change my clothes all day getting tired of what I was wearing, it drove my mom and grandma crazy. I went through all types of phases and tried out a lot of weird things that make me laugh now. I remember the time I wanted to be a boy like my brother. I use to wear his clothes daily. It was always an epic moment when someone at school thought I was him from behind. I've always had two very different style sides and still do. Where I love feminine girly styles that scream fashionista, I also love the empowerment and comfort of "men's" styles as well as wearing the most ridiculous t shirts I have in my collection. It's still something I embrace. No matter what, my style evolves with me as I grow and change and I always try to find what makes me feel the most "My Self"
Lets take a walk down my style memory lane and check out how I started out!
My mom and I the year I went as a color crayon for Halloween. I rocked it needless to say. She's always allowed me to express myself through my style. Even the next year when I chose to go as hobo.
Even at a young age my rompers were on point. Look at my face! It wasn't until later I realized how much it sucked to go to the bathroom in these. You have to get practically naked!
Even as a baby I was playing retro house wife rocking mixed patterns like a boss! and high waisted shorts back in the day were my thing and pairing them with boots was a style must
Occasionally I played dress up just like I do now. My Aunt Laura recently graduated nursing school so as always I was trying to be like here.
My styles were always my own and I never thought twice about how silly or wild they were. I thought they looked good so I put them on and went on my way with out even questioning what other might think. Ps my big sister would kill me if she knew a million people were about to see that photo of her with me. HAHA Gotcha!
No matter what I always tried to be myself no matter who or what that was at the time. The one thing I have always been...a total dork.
Some of my first memories of being a fashionista and loving style and anything involved are from a very young age. Putting together really interesting looks that were not so great and others pretty normal for a young girl. I grew up in a very modest house hold of women who taught me to dress and act like a lady but also express myself in the clothing I liked. Even at my youngest my mom, grandma, aunts and even my Uncle Dave who would all take me shopping never told me what to wear but only offered suggestions and then allowed me to pick what I liked in the end.
I became really style conscious around 13. When I started questioning my body, my size and everything about my image. I knew my body was really different than a lot of girls my age and I always seemed behind and underdeveloped. It all of a sudden was difficult to find clothes that fit me and being self conscious in a fitting room was my newest obsession. Gone were the days where shopping in the little girls section was easy and size small was actually small. I was 65lbs until I was 16 years old and about 5'4'' with no boobs what soever. Chicken legs, no shape and ridiculously pale with pretty frizzy hair. I had no clue what a flat iron was so it was always just home cut bangs by my grandma and fluffy hair styles. Legally I was still suppose to be in a booster seat when riding in a car, and everywhere I went to eat still set a kids menu in front of me. Joke was on them, I liked that food better anyways and didn't mind coloring while I waited.
All I wanted was jeans that fit me like all the other girls. Flare jeans were still a thing when I was a teenager and I so desperately wanted a pair that fit me. Never once did I find some that fit me tight in the thighs and butt like the other girls. Instead they all hung off me like a pair of boys jeans held up with a huge safety pin and paired with a shirt to cover my skinny shame. Never was there a pair that was both small enough in the waste and also long enough for my legs.
It was a constant battle when shopping that always ended in tears and embarrassment. My Grandma would find all the 12 slims in Limited Too she could find and set them one on top of the other out in the floor trying to find the one that might just be cut and sewn a tiny bit smaller than the others.
She would take them out of the wash and stretch and stretch the legs to get them longer for me then hang them to dry. Others we would put in the dryer on the highest heat to try and shrink as much as possible. Always ending in them still being baggy.
Now this small size wasn't over my eating habits or the lack of. It wasn't over my parents not properly feeding me. It was just me. It was how I was created and the body I was given. Every summer I would grow half an inch to my siblings full inch. I was petite from day one and I had no idea how long that would go with out changing. My favorite foods were always the bad ones. French Fries, mashed potatoes, pizza, my grandma's burgers. It wasn't that I didn't eat, it was that my body didn't retain and burned it all off as quick as I took it in. I loved eating. My mom always said my butt was hanging out of the fridge more than my older sisters male teen friends or my older brother. I've always been the foodie in the family. The little foodie who looked like she was starving according to everyone else.
As I got older, my style got less bold and more simple due to less choices in clothing small enough to fit my skinny frame. I always ended up in the same things, whatever jeans I had, layered tank tops and Adidas shoes. Naturally, I was highly self conscious in both my body and appearance and just wanted to fit in to the styles that were popular. I just wanted clothing to fit me. I just wanted to feel normal and pretty like the other girls I saw. I was home schooled after I had my first panic attack in 3rd grade. Thankfully I didn't have to put up with daily bullying from girls and guys my age but that didn't stop it from random strangers in public. Picking at me and commenting on my size.
"God could she be any skinnier?' "Shes like a ghost shes so pale" "Someone needs to feed you and fatten you up" Blah blah blah. I have had countless girls and women of all ages talk about me behind my back in public. I have had girls walk behind me making vomiting noises. I have been told I look sick and anorexic. You name it, I've heard it from both men and women and not all kids, adults too. The shows I watched on TV all had girls in perfect wardrobes that fit them perfect and made me think "If I could just look like that I would be OK". The magazines I fed on were filled with photo shopped images and girls with perfect tans and perfect skin. It never ended and all fed into the way I saw myself. At that young age it equaled one thing in my head - skinny and ugly. I was being taught by those around me and the media, to hate myself.
Stay tuned for part 2 in my newest blog project
The Style Of Me: The Story of My Style & The Embracement of Me
Thank You for reading and I hope you come back to read Part 2 when posted on my Blog. Feel free to share and follow with others. Together we can embrace our growth and change in who we were meant to be with out shame or ridicule but in love and confidence instead.
"Remember To Always Be Yourself & Your Will Always Be In Style"
Emily Doll TVD
If you are a fan, follower, reader or someone with a question, please feel free to email be at email@example.com
If you are a brand, company, magazine, photographer, small business, or someone who would like to contact me about collaborations please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org