Pears aren't sexy. And for the first half of my life, that's what I was. Shaped like that is. I had thick thighs, wide hips and an ample bum that were and remain simultaneously, my 'Wow Factor' and bane of my existence.
I battled my body for years because it didn't fit: into clothes, into my imagined ideal (whatever that was), into my life. When I danced ballet my big butt was a pain in one; it never tucked in the way it was supposed to, my back's natural arch made it stick out more. I favored long sweaters and loose pants over fitted tops and tight jeans because I cringed at the unwanted attention my booty brought me. Once I hit 17 (and college) I stopped caring and started the long process of embracing my body and living in my skin.
So I gasped when Glamour, my favorite women's magazine, did the most daring thing ever. They printed this article and ran the picture above in their October '09 issue. There are pears everywhere! I'm thrilled to bits that women with tits, ass and hips--and those without--are finalyl allowed to be themselves and not reimagined.
Thanks Glamour! For being Sassy. Fierce. Daring. Finally.
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