Hey. Look at me.

Look at those dimples. 

How bout the stretch marks?

See that mole on my upper arm?

It grows wiry black hairs. 

I trim them so as not to scare off small children with visions of witches. It's my own little inside joke and I smile when I notice the skin's extra sensitivity. 

Note the limp, static-y hair clinging to itself. 

The lack of body makes others jealous when it doesn't frizz in humidity.

Look at my weird knees and my vein-y feet, my pale pimple-prone skin and unshaved legs.

See where my eyebrows are just a little crooked? They haven't yet recovered from when I first started plucking them.

See the sagging skin under my chin and the movement in my upper arm? See the rolls in my tummy when I bend and how they smooth when I stretch? Look at the polish on my toes where the nail polish only covers half because it's grown out. 

Did you notice the stubble in my armpits when I waved to a friend?

Did you see my windblown hair, and impossibly rosy cheeks from racing my bike to class?

Did you notice how my eyeliner was a bit lopsided and my mascara was smudged frrom blinking when it was still wet?

If you didn't, that's lovely. 

If you did, know that this is me.

There are many incongruities between me and that model walking down Salvatore Ferregamo's spring runway. But I would rock that charcoal long-sleeved dress; it would bring out my eyes. And that belt! That belt would completely accentuate my smaller waist and curvy hips. Who needs smooth thighs and straight lines when I could make that designer dress look better on my blemished body than a model's boyish figure? I'm a woman, afterall.

These imperfections- the chipped polish and growing-in eyebrows, the stubbly legs and padded thighs- they make me interesting to look at. They make me feel unique when I surprise my roommates by lazing about in underwear.

Why make myself- and in effect, everyone around me- miserable by trying to fit myself into a confining body where I can't stretch or move too harshly?

And why do designer things not come in my size? I could walk that runway with more attitude than your prim models, Salvatorrr-ay.