Your body was never the problem.

Unlearning the 'how to dress for your body type' formula.

A few weeks ago, I stood in front of my closet, towel-wrapped and mildly irritated, realizing for the third time that week that I didn’t want to wear anything I owned. Not because it was out of style, or ill-fitting, or even that I didn’t like the clothes. I just didn’t feel like myself in them. I put on a pair of Everlane barrel-legged pants that used to feel reliable a T-shirt I thought was flattering. Still, it didn’t land. I couldn’t figure out what exactly was wrong.

Then I did.

Nothing I was reaching for was made for the shape I actually had. I felt like a square, hipless broad with deflated, post-baby boobs.

In the style realm, we throw around the phrase "dress for your body type!" as if it’s a universal truth, a solve-all. More often than not, it functions as shorthand for hiding parts of yourself or fixing them. It assumes we all agree on what’s worth concealing and what’s worth showing. Most guides don’t begin from the premise of self-recognition. They begin from correction.

Our collective fixation on body type categorization, like apples vs. pears vs. rectangles and hourglasses comes from an old urge to systematize femininity. Make us measurable, nameable, and easily sortable like the produce section at a grocery store!! There’s history here. Fashion, for much of its timeline, has reflected not what makes you feel good in your body, but what makes your body legible to others. The message wasn’t just “here’s what to wear”, it was, “here’s how to be seen”.