Skinny Jeans Were Never Body Positive

That's not how fashion works.

When I was young and first struggling with my weight, I used to play the “at least I’m not that” game. At least I’m not that fat. At least I still have a cute face. At least I can walk fast. At least I can cover up my legs in wider jeans. At least nobody seems to be able to guess my real weight when my legs are hidden.

At least, at least, At least.

A lot of people play word games like that with themselves. In a way, you almost feel like you’re doing a good thing. As if it’s “the gratitude game.” But then we ignore the way so many of our “at leasts” tend to tear somebody else down. At least I’m not as fat as them. At least I can move faster. Or look “better.”

Lately, I’m beginning to think I’m done with the whole thing. Done playing games. These days, the only thing that really matters to me is giving my body what it needs. Making peace with it. But that might all be much easier said than done.

Today, I got so sick of my leg pain that I decided to lie down for a bit on one side. To take some pressure off my worst leg. While I was doing that, I thought about elevating my legs so I put one into the air. I couldn’t believe how painful that simple act was. Lifting my left leg up into the air puts enormous pressure on the skin of my inner calf — right in the middle where the shape dips as if I’d tied a tourniquet around my lower leg.

These are the legs that practically nobody sees because they bring me so much shame. As my lipedema has progressed over the past couple of years, however, they’re also these legs I cannot seem to hide.

I don’t think I want to hide them, though. At least… not every day and not anymore. Not when I’m already hidden behind a computer (or mobile phone) screen. Sure, I’m not about to walk around in public baring these legs, but at this point, it’s naive to pretend I can hide what’s happening beneath wide leg pants.

Now that my disease has progressed to a point where I can’t just cover them up, I guess I want to be one of those voices out there to let you know that people with deformities like this exist. I exist, and if you saw me in person, many of you would just write me off as fat and lazy.

Being fat is not the bad thing, of course. It’s the way people look at you, criticize you, or devalue you when all they see is fat.

But we’re out here, you know? Human beings with lipedema legs that bring them so much pain. It’s estimated that at least 17 million (mostly) women have lipedema in the US alone. That’s 17 million people carrying a disproportionate amount of diseased fat cells in their lower limbs.

And 17 million people who most likely can’t wear plus size skinny jeans.

You might have heard that young people (Gen Z) have been dissing skinny jeans on social media. It appears that Millennial and Gen X women are not having it. They love their skinny jeans, thank you very much. And they’re more than happy to tell you why.

All week long, I’ve run into articles from women claiming to be fat or curvy — and praising skinny jeans. At first glance, these stories all seem nice. Women talking about how skinny jeans finally helped them feel more comfortable in their bodies. How they learned to love and accept their curves once they embraced the stretch and “hug” of all those skinny jeans.

That’s empowerment, right?

Part of me gets it, because, sure. Any piece of clothing that makes you feel better about your body and more comfortable in your own skin is a positive… isn’t it?

Except, here’s the thing.

Skinny jeans are not innately body positive. They never were and I doubt they ever will be.

They just seem like they’re so body positive because some plus size bodies get to wear them. Which plus size bodies? Well, you know. The fat or curvy bodies that fit comfortably into standard — and eventually, acceptable — plus sizes.

Believe it or not, some of us curvy girls have never been able to wear skinny jeans in our size, for the same reason we couldn’t wear plenty of bootcut styles either. Plus size bodies don’t all have the same proportions. There’s a whole world of us (as in, millions) who could never squeeze our calves or knees into those things.

It shocks me that after reading what feels like forty-something different articles and blog posts from self-proclaimed curvy ladies who love themselves some skinny jeans, no one seems able to recognize the sheer privilege of being plus size “in the right way.”

Millions of us actually have larger lower bodies. We’re not just your average “pear-shape” versus “apple.” Our proportions are often much more extreme.

At my absolute slimmest in high school, I weighed 140 pounds, wore a junior’s plus size 13/15 jeans, and a youth L or XL top. Even then, when my calves weren’t nearly as enormous as they are now, there was absolutely no brand of skinny jeans that could accommodate them. In any size.

Wide leg jeans saved my life when I was a teenager and young adult. Seriously. I routinely starved myself, went vegetarian, then vegan, and then I’d sweat it out in a fitness center every single day — yet I still left virtually every single dressing room in tears just because it was so damn difficult to find jeans to fit my legs.

That’s why it’s such a terrible joke to hear woman after woman applaud skinny jeans as if they are the premier fit for body positivity. Um, they’re not that body positive when they can’t accommodate millions of bodies like mine.

Worse yet, practically every time another woman writes about her love for skinny jeans, she talks about her disdain for other styles — especially wide legs and “mom” jeans. “Nobody looks good in them” seems to be the common anthem. They say the mom jeans make your torso look “too short” and your tummy “too fat.”

And wide leg jeans?

I see all of the censure and ridicule about Jnco, stovepipes, and other wide leg denim, but I haven’t run into one skinny jean obsessed individual who’s even considered that making fun of other styles of jeans is the least body positive thing you can do.

Complaining that a certain style of jeans makes people look fat is obviously sending out the message that fat is bad. Suggesting that nobody really likes that look or that only crazy people want wide leg jeans is just baseless and cruel.

Everyone has a right to choose the clothes that make them feel comfortable and happy. In other words, the world does not revolve around just a few body types.

Unfortunately, fashion does.

I don’t want to take away anybody’s skinny jeans just because I can’t wear them too. I just don’t want skinny jeans to be the only — or predominant — choice. In years past, they have been. There have been way too many occasions over the past 20 years where plus size clothing retailers like Torrid or Lane Bryant only offered skinny jeans.

Even today, on the rare occasion that I do find wide-leg options, the sizing is far from inclusive, and they’re frequently sold out. Sold out? That’s right, and it only makes sense. If wide legs are they only type of pants most people with lipedema can wear, it only makes sense that we would buy them out, with multiple pairs at a time.

For one thing, the thighs do wear out from daily friction, but also, we’ve learned the hard way that we’ve got to try to stock up while we can. We just don’t know the next time we’ll get lucky.

As much as people love to say “it’s not fat phobia” and then blame the lack of lipedema clothing on things like supply and demand — that isn’t very honest. Plus size clothing is notorious for problems, including its lack of body diversity. Don’t get me wrong. Retailers like Torrid now go to great lengths to show us a wide variety of body types, but once you begin digging for some of those clothes, you discover that they never even offered them. Not in those sizes. Not in that cut.

Folks like myself find themselves in an often no-win situation. In my case, I have typically wound up getting any old thing that remotely works with my legs, even when that means wearing clothes I really hate, or styles that are completely uncomfortable. Hell, I’ll wear pajama bottoms if I have to.

I realized a long time ago that fashion wasn’t meant for me, and in 2021, fashion is still not an inclusive industry. Perhaps I could get behind skinny jeans if designers and retailers actually offered large enough skinny jeans to accommodate morbidly obese bodies, or bodies with lipedema, but as it happens, nobody is doing that.

Actually, I have a habit of reaching out to various companies that claim to be size inclusive and let them know about lipedema and the fact that nobody is meeting the need for fashionable, functional, or comfortable clothing for our bodies. When I try to buy wide leg jeans or pants, I let the businesses know that they’re out of stock or need to offer shorter inseams too.

In about 10 years of writing to at least 60 different companies, no one has felt it was a worthwhile endeavor. Instead, what usually happens is that the business reiterates their supposedly inclusive points and says, more is coming soon.

Except, of course, it’s never soon.

Sadly, it doesn’t seem to matter how many millions of people need more inclusive clothing. The idea that fashion and thinness are beauty intertwined runs way too deep. Businesses and organizations which claim to be body positive still can’t seem to stop equating larger bodies with “bad,” “ugly,” or “lazy.”

Don’t believe me? I recently found this on Facebook, posted by a women’s rights page which boasts itself as “body positive” on its About section. In case you missed it, no, it’s not classy or body positive to comment on a current president’s “trim, fit” look in an obvious roast to the former POTUS. What sort of message does that shout, anyway? Trump was not a bad president because he’s fat. “Trim” and “fit” are not fucking character traits.

People, we’ve got to quit pretending that it’s body positive to shade other bodies while praising anything else.

That’s why it drives me bonkers when I read all of the odes to skinny jeans which can’t help but criticize other styles of pants. The most body positive thing you can do is wear the clothes you love to wear, and then support other bodies to do the same damn thing.

Don’t like wide leg jeans? Don’t buy them. But keep in mind that there are bodies that actually need that cut, and other bodies that simply prefer it. Instead of calling for certain clothing cuts to be canceled, push for fashion to become truly inclusive.

And hey, if you really love skinny jeans because they gave you the freedom to rock your curves, maybe it’s time to use some of that privilege to ask your favorite jeans companies to offer options for your fatter friends who can’t even get a leg into that cut. Because skinny jeans, leggings, jeggings, joggers and every other cult favorite type of pants can’t really be inclusive and body positive until they have options for all of us.

Remember, we’re not even talking about going up another size. Or three. That doesn’t solve the problem. We’re talking about proportions and there are millions of plus size people who don’t fit into those narrow guidelines of the current plus size charts.