A friend posted on
Facebook wondering if she was the only woman who never had manicure. I
commented that I never had one as well. Some time ago I would have said this
loud and proud and would never thought that I needed to change this
attitude.
At that time, I was not interested in how I looked.
Back in Iraq, I never cared for makeup, accessories, or even fining colours
that suited my skin tone. I used to hate shopping. At that time, I had
unhealthy body image as all around me would highlight weight gain, urging me to
lose weight to be more attractive. I was unmarried and beauty standards in Iraq
recommended slim bodies. My family, friends and colleagues would always
highlight that over-weighted women were not attractive to men. Of course, nobody
cared for the health issues coming with weight, as most men there enjoyed
having bellies shaking as they walked. overweight was a health problem for men,
maybe, but for women it made them unmarriageable.
Being stubborn and rebellious woman, I resisted any
attempt to make myself attractive. I felt that any attempt to make myself
beautiful meant that I was inviting men to check me out and consider me as
potential wife. I remember rejecting gold jewelleries as a neighbour advised my
mother that women who wore gold were more attractive to men.
For years I rejected makeup, accessories and
body-shaping clothes. I wore Turkish-designed clothes for Muslim women like an
overcoat and was satisfied that it did not show any of my body features.
When I moved to England, I had to change the way I
dress as my overcoats were not practical for London life. The stack of clothes I
brought with me did not make sense and were extremely uncomfortable for London
commute and the long walks I wanted to explore the city.
I started shopping for jeans and tops. I was
comfortable with wearing jeans and body-fit tops as the notion that my clothes
could have sent unintended messages to bachelor men was not valid in England.
My continuous trips to Oxford Street for window shopping before selecting an
item to buy helped me develop a taste, consider what suited my body-shape and
what it did not. For the first time in my life, since I could remember, I
enjoyed shopping, in spite of the fact that I did it alone, with no girl
friends to ask for their advice.
The joy did not only come from the variety of options
available or all body shapes and heights (I can't be more grateful for petite
jeans!) It was liberating to shop with my own satisfaction in mind. When I
started shopping, I was looking for my practical clothes, and gradually I built
a style that I was comfortable with.
The most difficult job
was shopping for bras. In Iraq, in conservative families like my own, it was
recommended that the mother would do the shopping of bras and underwear for her
unmarried girls. When the girl got married, her husband would do that for her during
the first years of their marriage. This was because most of the shops selling
these items owned by men and had men to do the sales. Most girls would refrain
from working in such shops as it would damage their reputations. (This was
before building all the shopping centres where women could have better shopping
experience, but it is still the practice in the outskirts of cities where no
shopping centres are available).
Here, away from the
eagle-eye of judgmental men in Iraq, I could do the shopping myself. It cost me
several bras before understanding shapes and sizes, but it was worth it.
This whole shopping
experience helped me to understand my body from the outside as much as from the
inside. The biology classes I took in school (yes, I studies science in
secondary school!) helped me to understand how my body worked. But the independent
shopping experience helped me understand my body and develop healthy body image.
