the clothes we never forget

Finding a homecoming dress as a bigger girl in the early 2000s was tough. Back then, low-rise jeans, skinny pop stars, and crop tops were everywhere. I didn’t feel bad about myself, but I knew it was harder for me to find clothes than it was for my smaller friends. When we shopped at places like Hollister, American Eagle, or Weathervane, I usually grabbed an accessory or the biggest thing on the rack, even if I knew it probably wouldn’t fit. Later, I’d go back with my mom to Lane Bryant or the plus-size juniors section at JCPenney or Sears.

that cannot be my real hair.

I tried to hide that I wore bigger sizes from my friends, but they knew anyway. I used to wonder if they noticed where my clothes came from or what size I wore. Honestly, I don’t think they cared. That’s the thing about growing up 'big boned': you’re always thinking about your body, while your friends who wear a medium barely think about theirs, let alone yours.

The early 2000s weren’t made for bigger girls. If you wore a size 16 in 2002, you learned to pull and tug at your clothes, hoping to look smaller or at least less noticeable. I didn’t get hit with all the 'fix yourself' messages, but I also didn’t feel comfortable in my body until much later. Seeing people like me on TV, having friends who didn’t care about my size, and learning to dress for myself instead of for the juniors’ department mirror helped. Eventually, I stopped letting clothes control me. That changed how I saw myself, and it changed the story of the dress, too.

When I look at old photos now, I see that my body looks like a lot of women today—women who are celebrated and comfortable being bigger than a size 6. It’s interesting how culture changes over time. Even though skinny trends are back in the media, people still come in all shapes and sizes. The same messages are still out there, but now they’re not just in magazines or on TV. They’re on our phones and social media all day, and it's exhausting. So maybe this reflection and nostalgia will remind me (heck, maybe even someone else out there) that you don't have to change anything about yourself to feel good. You have to embrace a mindset that doesn't get tainted by outside images of what style and beauty are; those things are all in the eye of the beholder. And news flash, you are the beholder, babe.

So, the daunting task of shopping for homecoming began. I brought my mom and my Aunt Marie to the mall with me. We went to Lord & Taylor. The year before, I wore a black lace dress with a blue underlay—very 2001, very moody—with the classic 2001 updo, twists, and bobby pins. I looked like a 13-year-old trying to dress up as a grown woman, and honestly, that’s exactly what I was.

This year, though, I had cut my hair short, had different friends, and wanted to wear something different. While shopping in the formal department at Lord & Taylor, I found what is still one of my favorite pieces of clothing: a red Betsy & Adam dress, made of satin, with a square neckline. It fit a little snug in a size 16. I needed the size 18.

zoom in for red hair sparkles.

Lord & Taylor didn't have it, and they weren’t going to. So my aunt, who would do just about anything for my sister and me, said she’d look. She lived in Manhattan most of the time and was known for her insanely tenacious ability to make shit happen. And she did. She found Betsy & Adam’s showroom, asked where she could get this specific style in a size 18, and went from store to store until she found it. Then, almost like magic, she found it and bought it for me. That search made the dress feel even more meant for me.

It wasn't just about the dress. It was the way my aunt searched for it, and how both my mom and aunt understood how much it meant to me. I got lucky with the mom-and-aunt department. Their effort made the whole thing feel bigger than just a dress.

I was obsessed with this dress. Red satin, square neckline—the kind of thing I decided would be my signature look forever. I pictured myself getting married in a dress just like it, back when 25 felt like the deadline for that sort of thing. I’m past that now. Still not married. Maybe I’ll get another shot at the red dress silhouette if the occasion ever comes up.

Styling it was all about keeping things simple and elegant. Silver jewelry, red strappy shoes, and of course a classic 2000s French tip manicure. I got my hair done, but since I’d cut it short, I wore it down instead of doing an updo like the year before. It looked really cute, and honestly, I was so excited about the glittery hairspray my hairdresser used. It made my grown-up look feel a little more right for a newly turned 15-year-old.

my bestie, Maria and I before homecoming in one of my favorite throwbacks ever

I look at those old photos and remember feeling good in that dress. The red helped, but mostly it was knowing my mom and aunt went out of their way to make sure I got the one I wanted. That stayed with me. I started to see clothes as a way to try on different versions of myself, not just something to hide behind. That feeling lasted, especially with that dress.

It didn’t matter that homecoming was in a gym that smelled like basketballs and floor wax. I still got to wear the best dress I’d ever seen. I would go back to that moment in a second, just to feel that excitement again