Stressful Events:  the prom, the mall, shopping for clothes etc...
 
The Mall

        Most young girls love to go shopping, especially for new clothes.  When I was a teenager, I used to dread
going shopping for clothes.  As the summer came too an end, mom would take me to the mall, to get new outfits
for the start of classes in the fall.  Looking good was very important in high school; you wanted to fit in, or at the
least you wanted to look nice.  But for me, that was not possible.  The mall was a loud, bustling place full of
perfect people, and more often that not, it would give me a headache and make me really depressed.  All the money in
the world couldn't have helped...I would spend hours going from one store to another, trying on clothes that didn't
fit.  My mom would have paid whatever it cost just to find me something I liked, something I would have worn to
school, something I wouldn't leave in a drawer never to be worn again because it, like eveything else, "didn't fit".
It was even harder for me because I just loved fashion! I wanted so much to wear certain clothes, I followed the
trends each year -- I even wanted to become a fashion designer for the longest time.

        The worst was those stores that didn't have any mirrors inside the dressing rooms, so you'd be forced to
come outside, into the store, in full view of the clerks and the customers, in order to see what you looked like.
It was like a broken record for me, when that happened, having to explain why the clothes fit the way they did,
explain why I was shaped that way or why I had a big scar down my back.  Why I would have to try damn near
every pair of jeans in the store before finding one that sort of fit me.  Why I didn't want the sleeveless shirt, the
halter top, the strapless dress, the tight-fitting skirt, the skin-tight pants or the tailored jacket.  I was a freak of
nature, that's why!  I wasn't normal, I wasn't perfect like you and like everybody else! I wanted to run out of the
mall and into an oncoming bus!

        And in almost every clothing store there were these large mirrors set up to give you this view of yourself
from all angles, you know?  Aaack!  How horrible for someone with scoliosis!  You could be in a good mood
and think you're okay with your shape, but then bang!, you see yourself in one of those set ups and you realise
what you really look like.  You just want to die!  It would leave me in despair for weeks.

        No, the mall wasn't a pleasant outing for me, it was hell.  It remained that way most of my life, until a few years
ago after my last surgery.  Straighter now, and with a bit better self-esteem, I can walk into a mall without getting
a panic attack, and can walk out of it without wanting to kill myself.  It was quite a thrill the 1st time I was shopping
for clothes and realised I could pick things on the basis of how pretty they looked, not on whether or not they'd 'fit'
me (very small category).  I could wear a dress, and even a t-shirt!  Alot of skirts, and various styles of clothes still
don't fit me, my hips are crooked, body's kind of twisted, but I have alot more choice now than I used to, when it
comes to buying clothes.  It's a good feeling! I think it's alot less stressful for mom too, when we still happen to be
shopping together -- it's quite different now, I think that makes her fell better, she didn't like to see me so depressed.
 


The Prom

        Big life event in the life of a young girl.  Not talking about the "junior prom", that's the one for grade 9's, which
I didn't attend, and which I didn't think was so important anyway.  No, I'm referring to the "senior prom", your grade
12 prom, the important one.  I guess I was lucky in that I actually had a date for the prom. That problem out of the
way, time to tackle issue at hand:  finding a dress that fits!  I knew right away that it would not be possible, but we
went into store after store trying to find me a dress.  It got so bad that mom ended up telling me she'd pay for any
dress, no matter how much it cost, just so long as I found one I was happy with. That didn't help though, since there
was no gown that fit.  With all those tight-fitting waists, tailored gowns, strapless dresses, and those damn
low-cut backs, there was nothing that fit!

        I wanted to skip the prom altogether.  But you see, I had failed grade 12 once, and missed the prom that year,
as well as the graduation.  It had really bothered me, so now that I had finally passed and was graduating, I didn't
want to miss a thing.  We ended up having a gown made from scratch, based on a picture I chose out of a prom
dress catalog.  Having a seamstress tailor the dress to my strange measurements seemed to be the only solution.
It was beautiful, a formal gown of deep royal blue with puffed sleeves ("Anne of Green Gables" fans will understand!).
The dress had a v-neck surrounded by white embroidery embedded with shiny white pearls, with the same sort of
design embroidered around the edges of the sleeves.  The bottom of the dress was very pretty, with either side of
the blue material lifted up by a white bow to reveal pleats white lace embroidered material...I had blue gloves and
blue shoes to match.  It wasn't your typical, modern prom dress.  This was a traditional "fairy tale" dress.

        But this wasn't Disney, there was no Fairy Godmother to wave her magic wand and make everything alright.
The dress might initially sound beautiful, but in order to compensate for the hunch in my back, she had to leave extra
material in the back of the dress.  This didn't look good, so we decided on adding a sort of flap in the back to
cover that up.  I felt that it was too strange, since most girls had dresses with the backs open and mine would look
odd in comparison.  My boyfriend, friends and family all said it looked great, but I wasn't convinced.  I think the
whole thing had been too much for me. When prom night came, my friends had come over to pick me and C. up
and I was still crying in my room.  I was refusing to go, and we were already running behind schedule.  I thought
I was ugly, and that the dress was ugly.  They convinced me I looked fine and we went, but I didn't enjoy the night
much, certainly not as much as I should have.  I felt horrible for making such a fuss, for making my friends late to
the prom, and for ruining what would have been a nice night with my boyfriend.

        The positive side to the whole thing? Well, lucky for me I had a date, and parents who could afford to get
my prom dress made for me.  Even now though, I don't see much good from that night.  It was pretty much ruined.
Ruined by me, by my low self-esteem, by my belief that I was ugly even in a beautiful gown.  All I could see and
feel was the scoliosis.  Nothing else.  It was me and my scoliosis, against a high school gym full of normal,
straight-backed people.  I just wished I could have stayed in bed that day.

        Looking back, it's such a shame that my perceptions were so twisted.  The photos of the prom are the best
pictures of me ever, and in fact I did end up having a good time at the end of the evening.  If only I could have put
my negativity aside and enjoyed myself, like a 'normal' person!  How ironic...Like a 'normal' person.
Here's a picture of me at my senior prom:

This is me in my prom dress.


     
As much as I love fashion, growing up with Scoliosis is made that much harder when you are
'bombarded' with images of perfect women, especially with the advent of 'the super model'.
Here's Claudia Schiffer (she's gorgeous!) My personal favourite is Linda Evangelista.

Living in France doesn't help either. Here, clothes are cut to be tight-fitting, pants are made snug, shirts are made 2 sizes too small and tailored to accent your female curves. Useless when your 'curves' are in the wrong places! I can't fit in any clothes here and going shopping has brought back all those horrible memories. I'd hate to be an overweight French person, and now I can assure you that France has a huge anorexia/bulimia problem. You have to be a toothpick to fit into anything that's sold in clothing stores in this freakin' country! Take me back to Canadaaaaaaaaaa....(06-18-2001)
 
Back to main page