My Era of Baggy Clothes
written by a girl with very little fashion sense
I would not describe myself as a particularly fashionable person. I live in Athleta joggers, big sweatshirts, and Chacos. My job searches have hinged on the ability to wear athleisure to work. So far so good. But my wardrobe has shifted recently. It’s been a slow evolution, and nothing radical, but I find myself pulled towards loose-fitting, baggy clothes, rather than tight workout clothes.
This shift isn’t too surprising, considering I’m in one of the worst body images phases of my life. As I trend towards over-sized clothing, I’ve noticed I’m not the only one. Looks like I stumbled upon being trendy!
So I looked into the history and trends surrounding baggy clothes and turns out it is actually a rich area of research! Here is what I learned:
“Oversized fashion” is a distinct fashion trend that is separate from what we think of as “plus-sized fashion.” Oversized fashion is simply wearing sizes that are big for your body. Noting here that in my research there was very little understanding or acknowledgement of how the “oversized fashion” trend may intersect with fat-phobia.
Over-sized fashion is not a new trend. Its roots trace back to the 1920’s as a rejection of the “male gaze.” Women turned away from corsets and tight skirts towards baggier clothing to “reduce” their feminine look, with the hope of being taken more seriously and objectified less often.
Coco Chanel was a visionary in this area. She was the first major style icon to introduce stretchy, athletic material into US women’s clothing. However, she was also homophobic, anti-Semitic, and pretty much the worst, so I wish someone else had introduced the materials in my daily wardrobe instead of her.
I know Wikipedia is not the ideal source here, but they did a fabulous job summarizing the “baggy clothes” trend from the 1920’s to now.
My wardrobe has always been “team comfort,” and I’m fully ok with that. But there is an urgency now. I find myself overstimulated by tight clothes to the point where I have to immediately take them off if the fit is too tight. Mik Zazon did a wonderful reel on this that exemplified the nauseating feelings of sensory overload (though I think for me it has more to do with body image and anxiety than ADHD).
I’ve always been sensitive to sensations around my stomach, for example seatbelts, a table pressing against me, pants, etc. But now the feelings have moved to my arms. Even the slightest sensation of squeezing around my arms and I have this full body reaction.
I live in a world where my body is still relatively small, by clothing size standards. I never worry about going into a store and them not having my size (although Brandy Melville would be the obvious exception to this). It is easy for me to size up at any store if something feels too tight. That’s the privilege of getting to easily find and wear over-sized clothing. That is not an experience everyone gets to have.
I had been feeling this transition for awhile when I started doing pilates with Kara Duval. She is the queen of big sweaters and comfortable clothes that somehow fit into this perfectly-styled aesthetic. She was the first instructor I’ve ever had that encouraged the class to think about how often we suck our bellies in throughout the day. I realized that I spend pretty much the whole day sucking my stomach in, especially if I’m wearing tight pants (leggings, jeans, etc.), without doing it consciously. In one class, she asked us to relax our abdominals and it was such a foreign feeling. It was hard to even get myself to do it.
I know I’m not the only one who is fascinated and intimidated by this topic because people ask her about it every week on her “ask me anything” days. I screen-shotted two recent responses that summarize her perspective better than I ever could.
Her response on the right made me think about my breath and how bracing my abdominals most of the day restricts my ability to take deep breaths. I am typing this newsletter wearing tight workout pants and just instinctively am trying to pull my stomach in against the elastic material. Every time I try to take a deep breath and let my belly expand, I hit a point where my brain just goes “nope, we don’t like” and pulls it back in.
I feel generally good about transitioning to looser-fitting clothing, but I just want to make sure I’m not doing it purely because of my body image. This seems to be a theme of my newsletter: how much do you push your comfort zone vs. live in comfort? Wearing baggy clothes is likely a behavior with low-consequences in terms of not challenging my comfort zone, but it still begs the question of whether I’m just avoiding the emotions that are leading me to want to wear over-sized clothing in the first place.
There are legitimate reasons to transition towards loose-fitting clothing, if you feel that pull. Kara mentioned some. But the reality is I just like the way they feel. And I like to support any movement that is trying to obstruct the “male gaze.” That’s just a side hustle for me.
There is nothing wrong with wearing tight clothing. I certainly still will. It’s not like I’m about to throw out my 6 pairs of Athleta leggings. But I want to be more cognizant of how my clothes make me feel and why I’m pulled towards some clothes over others. And to Mik Zazon’s perspective in her reel — wearing uncomfortable clothing distracts me from being present in my life.
I have been working through the societal shame of sizing up in clothing. Even though my feelings are valid and important to process, they pale in comparison to the actual barriers and discrimination that fat people experience trying to buy clothes that fit them. A conversation about over-sized clothing requires an acknowledgement of my privilege.
I’ll end with a story about my favorite era of baggy clothing — the 1980’s. The classic 1980’s style was big, boxy shoulders, especially in suits. This style often disguised the “womanly shape” to ensure women were seen as equals in the workplace. This style trend overlapped with the mass popularity of more gender-neutral clothing. Aspects of the 1980’s style can definitely be seen today. In the words of the Seattle Times, “Big ’80s shoulders are back — is it to hold the weight of the world?” Or to hold my rock climbing arms? Who’s to say!