Naked: Wear what makes you feel sexy, no matter what he thinks

Glamour Magazine

My boyfriend E and I have very different tastes in clothes--for me, I mean. He likes to see me in tailored stuff, buttoned up to the neck and down to the floor. He basically thinks that I look sexiest when I look like a virgin librarian nun. Me, I like...well, everything. It feels like now that I am in misses sizes, there is a dizzying array of styles and clothing choices and options and I would say that I'm afraid to pin myself down to any one look, except that I don't think I even have any idea how to create something as cohesive as a "look." I just like clothes, and pretty things, is pretty much what it boils down to, and my taste is eclectic. Which is a very simple way of putting it. (Elastic Waist recommends this galaxy of gorgeous plus-size clothes)

I have gotten to the point where I do not care that my arms are not perfect and firm and my stomach is not flat. I am still working on the same laissez-faire attitude about my knees and my thighs, but generally, I am doing really well with accepting this body I've ended up with, in general, and I am having fun dressing it up. I wear fitted clothes; I wear tight clothes. I wear sleeveless blouses and skirts that hit above my knees. I wear the clothes that E thinks look sexy on me, because I like to look sexy for him--it makes me feel gorgeous. I like to hear that he thinks I am gorgeous.

Anne wants you to know that how you dress can dramatically change the way you feel about yourself.

But I wear stuff he hates, too. And I wear it because I love how it makes me feel, I love choosing an outfit that I think is cool, an item of clothing that I think is pretty, and flattering, a style that I feel damn fine rocking out in, no matter what he thinks. And that was a process. When he wasn't crazy about my outfit, it sort of sent me for a loop--I look bad, I don't know how to dress, how will I ever learn how to dress this body? He wasn't criticizing me, at all, he wasn't trying to make me feel bad about my body--I solicited his opinion, and one of the very great things about him is that he is always honest with me. The problem was all entirely me, taking his opinion about a shirt and its fit and extrapolating out into a freakout, a dip in my self-esteem and body image, a feeling of failure that wasn't fair to either of us.

I wish I had a recipe for you--do this, and you can feel confident in wearing what makes you happy to wear, no matter what anyone thinks of you. But I think it was just as simple as saying I am going to wear what makes me happy, what I like, what I enjoy and think is totally awesome. And it is amazing, how true it is--how you dress is how you feel.

I had been craving a pair of plaid skinny jeans for the longest, visiting them online every few days. Totally aware that if I said E, what do you think? He would say "I hate them." And after dithering for awhile, I bought them anyway, and yesterday they arrived and I pulled them on, and I love them. They are tight, and they are plaid. They say "Hello! Here are my plaid thighs for your enjoyment!" They are a little outrageous, a little ridiculous, and they're wonderful. They make me feel wildly, insanely sexy. They're comfy, too. I'm going to wear them with short boots and a tight T-shirt. I'm going to wear them with a blousy sweater and shiny flats. I am going to wear the hell out of them, and feel gorgeous because they feel like they're me.

E thinks I am sexiest when I am confident, when I am sure in my self and my body and how I look and how I feel. Even if he doesn't like the plaid pants, per se, that's okay. I know he likes what they do for me, my confidence, and my ass.

Related: Bring sexy back to your relationship with this expert advice.


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