Barbie Land

So, I work in a fashion retail environment in a once-large, now smallish company. I'm an executive assistant and I really like the people I directly support and work for. They're a more arty kind of group and there are several folks who just let their freak flags fly, which I totally appreciate. My boss is awesome. Unfortunately, these folks make up about 1% of the total employees here. The other 99% are fairly young, fairly affluent and they worship at the altar of the gods of fashion and style. There is an element of privilege and snobbery in the air at all times.

Suffice it to say, I am not the most fashion-forward person in the world. I see things I like and appreciate and would wear if I was inhabiting a different body and a different salary bracket, but the reality is that neither of those things are true. And every day is like being back in high school, where you would walk the hallway and be "evaluated" by the Mean Girls who now have access to their husband's credit cards and who haven't eaten a carb since they were 14. Most days I can let it roll off my shoulders, but some days, like today, it brings home how difficult it is to be the ugly duckling in a sea of swans, which is a feeling I thought I would get to leave behind when I left school.

I believe myself to be a good person. I care about people, I try and be supportive and loving, positive and dependable. I am tender hearted and I would give you the unfashionable shirt off my ample back if you needed it (though these women would likely reject it, no matter what their level of need was). I think I'm intelligent and I like to learn about people, places and things. I try and be respectful and well spoken. I am kind to people even when they aren't kind to me because that's how I was raised and that's the kind of woman I want to be. I have made hard decisions to do things and not to do things because I feel like I know the difference between right and wrong, given up things I wanted so desperately because I wanted to spare others hurt and pain and because it was important to me to do the right thing. And it KILLS ME that none of these things about me matter because regardless of what kind of person I am, here in this environment, I will always be reduced to just being known as that fat woman who has the cubicle by the window.

Here's some news to these women: I know what I look like. I know that if I lost a ton of weight tomorrow I still wouldn't meet your standards of beauty. I can't afford Cole Haan shoes. I don't have ANY boyfriend or husband, no less a wealthy one, and haven't for a very long time. My life is currently boiled down to working and taking care of my parents, which is also not a glamorous way to spend one's time, and has, in fact, been brutal. No one has rescued me from this situation, nor will they, and that's okay. Here's some other news: your assessment of me has not gone unnoticed by me, not that I think you care. And yes, it is still possible to hurt this grown woman's feelings. Because no matter how old you get, you never stop wishing you were the pretty girl. But tomorrow I will get up again and come in this building and try and do the best job I can and I will continue to try to be the best person I can be.

I don't even know if I will post this diatribe or not, or if I'll even keep it up on my sight if I do post it, but for the moment, I just needed to say it out loud. I'll get over it, I always do. Here's a promise of a less negative post tomorrow, my friends.