By Alexandra Murray

Content Warning: Body shaming, clothing size, body neutrality, mention of fatphobia. 

A few months ago, I embarked on a trip to my favourite store in search of a new summer skirt. As soon as I walked into the store, I spotted a lovely green and white floral skirt that perfectly fit my ‘summer skirt’ criteria. I found my size in the skirt and headed straight for the fitting room, excited to see how the piece would look on my body. As soon as I slipped into the skirt, I felt beautiful. It flared out over my hips and flattered my curves in a way that I adored, and was the perfect length for a tall lady like myself. I stepped out of the change room, grinning, to show my boyfriend how the skirt looked. He matched my smile and proceeded to say that I looked great in it. As we both gushed over how beautiful the skirt was, I heard a voice behind me say,  

“Do you want a second opinion?” The woman in the change room next to me had emerged and was staring at me, waiting for a response. She motioned for me to come towards her and despite my confusion, I did as she requested. At this point, I really had no idea what she was going to say. She leant towards me and said in a hushed tone, 

“Do you plan on losing weight anytime soon?”  

I shook my head.  

“Well, you really can’t buy this skirt then. It is clearly not flattering on you. You need to size up, at least. If you size up, and you do decide to lose some weight, then you can just take the skirt in at the waist!” 

The woman then proceeded to explain to me how to take a skirt in, although I don’t remember what she said; by this point, my brain was filled with what felt like television static. I was heartbroken. In a matter of minutes, I had gone from not being able to stop looking at myself in the mirror, to wanting to rip the skirt off my body and never look at it again. I could not believe that someone, let alone a complete stranger, told me that I needed to lose weight.  

The comments that the woman made about my body are an example of a microaggression. A microaggression is defined as “a comment or action that subtly and often unconsciously or unintentionally expresses a prejudiced attitude toward a member of a marginalised group”.  

Microaggressions often target groups of people susceptible to stereotypes and discrimination, and therefore can perpetuate sexism, racism, fatphobia and/or ableism, to name a few. The problem with microaggressions is that they often occur casually and lack bad intentions, and therefore are rarely called out. What most shocked me about the microaggression that I experienced was that it was a sexist, body-shaming comment, yet it came from a fellow woman. Though her intentions may have been good, her words were harmful. Little to her knowledge, I have struggled greatly with my body image, as I am sure many of us have. For years, I had a toxic relationship with the scales and exercise, and I have had to do hard psychological work to get myself to a point of body neutrality; where I accept and appreciate my body for all that it can do, as it is. With just a few words, it felt like this comment had undone the years of work I had done. For some of us, that is all it takes. As a cis, white, thin/straight-sized, able-bodied woman, I am in a very privileged position. I have only experienced sexist microaggression, whilst countless women experience microaggressions daily that are transphobic, homophobic, racist, ableist and more. What really perplexes me about this situation is that I am a size 10. If someone like me, whose body type is consistently represented in the media, experienced a body-related microaggression, how many microaggressions must women with marginalised body types face on top of blatant fatphobia? Despite being the victims of misogyny, women are not immune to dishing it out. We have to work hard to unlearn the teachings of internalised misogyny, including microaggressions. This means choosing our words and actions carefully and intentionally, and being bold enough to call others out when they make microaggressive comments. 

Eventually, the woman left the store with her own purchases, and left me standing in the fitting room, shocked and upset. I now hated the skirt I had loved just a few minutes prior. However, after I spent some time in the fitting room mulling it over, I decided that I had no other option but to buy the skirt. I knew that it would take time before the woman’s comments about my body wouldn’t haunt me every time I wore the skirt, but I knew that I owed it to myself to own the piece of clothing that had initially made me feel so beautiful. 

 I recently decided to stage a DIY photoshoot in the skirt with a friend in order to truly claim back the confidence that the skirt had originally given me, which was an incredibly healing experience. Though it took some time, I can say that I truly feel beautiful and empowered every time I wear the skirt. I am proud to say that the skirt has become a staple item in my wardrobe. I feel good every time I wear it, and I know the skirt fits my body perfectly, just the way it is.