The start of this New York Fashion Week began for me like any other. I sifted through my closet of graphic tees, printed blazers, and prairie dresses to land on my look for the day: a tie-dye midi skirt, pointed black leather boots, and a T-shirt that looks like GAP’s logo but instead proudly displays the word “FAT.” I knotted it to show some skin, tossed on a red backpack, and headed to my first show: Target, which was showing at the Curvy Con.
I, like a growing number of plus-size women and body-positive activists in fashion, have made the decision to reclaim the word fat. That’s not to say my feelings about it were always positive. Until about six years ago, if you had called me fat, I would have melted into a hysterical mess. That word carried so much weight in my mind. To me, it meant I was disgusting, unlovable, and unacceptable by society’s standards, unworthy of even existing—it was one of the worst things someone could say about me. It took years of writing about plus-size fashion and immersing myself in a community of fat-positive women to get me to a place where I’m not just past the stigma, but where I’m actually proud of my body. Now on the other side of that thinking, I comfortably describe myself as fat on a regular basis. I see it as a neutral descriptor, and no more insulting than someone saying I’m pale, have pink hair, or hazel eyes (all true). As a size 18, I’m also fat; it’s not a slur, it’s a fact.
No one in fashion, with the small exception of the few truly size-inclusive designers like Christian Siriano and Chromat’s Becca McCharen-Tran, gets that more than CeCe Olisa and Chastity Garner Valentine, the co-founders of Curvy Con, one of the most highly anticipated events in the plus-size community. Which is why when Curvy Con moved its schedule to coincide with NYFW three seasons ago, it was a big deal—a signal to the fashion industry that fat women are here, fat women are fashionable, and we’ve got the money to shop.
Walking into Curvy Con I was greeted by joyful exclamations from fellow attendees, excited about seeing a fat woman wearing a top that proudly proclaimed her fatness. The decor reflected that mindset; the walls of the two-floor space were covered in affirmations like “Sizeism ends here,” “Face the fat,” and “Big Girl Energy,” as well as quotes from Lizzo and other plus-size celebrities. Models of diverse sizes (not just 12) hit the runway in Target’s new size-inclusive collections that go up to 3X, and bloggers ranging in size from 14 to 26 were lining up in droves to try out Anthropologie’s extended sizes.
It felt the way fashion should be: representative of the 68% of American shoppers who wear a size 14 or above.
Wrapped in my cocoon of body positivity, I left the Curvy Con to attend my first show of the day at NYFW’s main location, Spring Studios. While diversity (in all senses of the word) among attendees is improving, I had a feeling my shirt might possibly evoke a different reaction there. But what I wasn’t expecting was that the biggest criticism of my size would come from a mural painted on the walls of the show venue.
At first glance, the mural (created by fashion’s latest art darling Ashley Longshore) looks like yet another Insta wall photo opp. It’s got Longshore’s signature whimsy—portraits of Care Bears, colorful florals, and cheeky slogans. But amidst a slew of affirmations such as “You are perfection,” “You are gorgeous,” and “Make it reign” was one so ironic, I almost had to laugh: “You do not look fat.” There I was, a fat woman wearing a “FAT” T-shirt being told that I didn’t, in fact, appear that way—as if it were such a terrible thing to be.