“You don’t want big, tight, ropey muscles when you are in front of a camera,” says Grace Lazenby, who has taught Wright and a hose of other actresses in her Rockin Models class at Equinox in West Hollywood. … “You can love SoulCycle,” explains Lazenby. “But you can’t go to SoulCycle five times a week and do squats and lunges and expect to go on a camera, ever.” “Forever Young,” Alex Kuczynski, Vogue Magazine, August 2014, p. 134 *
Dear Readers, I must apologize in advance.
I have inflicted grevious harm on any viewing audience this blog has by putting my legs–which have seen bicycles, squats, and lunges, and plenty of them, not to mention step-ups, dead-lifts, jump squats, burpees, froggers, runs and jogs, and endless hikes, for years. Years! If I’d known what this would do to the camerability of my legs, I’m not sure I would have had the guts to put myself out there this way.
But here we are: I am reviewing a shorts pattern. Shorts mean that your legs are visible. I can’t show you the shorts without showing you my legs, and as you can see, all of those lower-body muscle-building exercises have left me with enormous, He-Man thighs. It’s a tragedy.
The shorts aren’t. A tragedy, I mean. I’m just lucky that they fit at all, I guess, given my entire lack of willowy-ness. I cut them out in a size 16 (16! Six! teen!) for the hips and a 14 (sobs) in the waist. They’re a smidge snug in the waist area, despite that I sewed them up with 3/8″ seams instead of 5/8″. It’s true, I guess. I’m too fat for public viewing.**
The fabric is a blue viscose/cotton blend I picked up at Fabricland for a song. Mock fly zip, side seam pockets. It was easy to put together and worked out well. Of course, now I learn from Vogue Magazine that I really should only wear these outside of the house if I know for a fact that there will be no cameras lurking anywhere.
(In all seriousness, the side seam pockets were not my favourite. I prefer front pockets, both for comfort and because that bit of added bulk on the side seam is not my friend. I feel a bit like I’m wearing a Victorian corset with this silhouette. And you can see that the model on the pattern envelope in this length, with her hands in her pockets, has got some of the same thing going on.)
Cycling, lunges and squats can create bulky muscles, unless you’re six feet tall and weigh 120 lbs. Avoid heavy weights or risk looking like a quarterback. … “Nothing more than two or three pounds. Ever,” says De La Rue.
Oh my god! I’m only 5’8″! I weigh something like 145 lbs. (Honestly not entirely sure.) How did no one warn me before that unless you are taller than most men and thinner than most teenagers, heavy weights will make you look like a 20-year-old man on steroids?
It’s true. I lift heavy weights, sometimes. My god, what have I done to myself? I mean, sure, it’s good for your brain, your mood, your heart, your lungs, and your bones, but how could I have prioritized all that over shrinking myself into Flat Stanley so I could be mailed to Australia with a regular postage stamp? (Sigh.)
I’m so sorry, Dear Readers. I have let you down terribly, I know. Not only have I inflicted upon you the sight of legs on camera that have done an awful lot of heavy lifting, without even doing you the courtesy of photoshopping them, but I am so completely addicted to strength that I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. God help me, I like opening my own jars and being able to run up the stairs. It feels really good. I could have decided to atrophy myself down to a level of photogenic weakness, but instead I chose to be a strong, capable, competent woman. It’s unforgivable, I know. And unphotographable, more to the point. And yet, here I am! Photographing myself! Putting the photographs in public!
I was doomed, of course, the moment I had a child. I mean Frances was born quite small, but she definitely weighed more than three pounds. And then there’s the car-seat and the diaper bag …. Hell, even my work bag weighs more than 3 lbs fully loaded. I should have thought of this in advance. I should have avoided motherhood with all its unsightly lifting and carrying, or hired a nanny to do it for me, and I should have known better than to carry hardcovers with me on the train to work. I don’t know how I live with myself.
I do know that I will live with myself in more comfort if I make the waistband a smidge looser the next time with this pattern. If I were a real woman, I’d just lose five pounds, but alas. Maybe the serging on the inside to finish the seams and the careful pressing of the hems will make up, at least somewhat, for my many sins.
I can only hope that in time you will all find it in your hearts to forgive me.
Or at least be able to keep down your lunch when you see that I’ve chosen to put myself in front of a camera again.
* This one’s not online, maybe because they knew they’d get hate mail. So alas, no link.
** That it’s a Vogue pattern I’m reviewing along with a Vogue article is a coincidence. They’re separate entities, I imagine.
*** Wow, I was really surprised at how easy it was to erase sections of my body on the computer. It actually turned out to be harder to do a bad job of it than a good job. Still, how many obvious photoshop goofs can you see in this picture?