Dear One Size Fits All Stores,

I'm a bit confused 

Because you say that you're clothes 

Are one size fits all.

And that may be true

In a universe where every girl is a size two, with a flat chest, thin waist, and a gap between her legs

In a universe with a singular definition  of beauty. 

But I have a secret for you.

There is no one definition

There are hundreds. 



You pride yourself on being made in the USA 

But the USA does not come one size fits all

The USA comes in skinny Minnie, beautifully thin, and tiny. 

But it also comes in big breasts, beautiful curves, thick thighs, and belly rolls. 

The female population has never and will never be one size fits all

So why is it that you're trying to stick every girl into the same mold

Newsflash trendy stores

All that I am doesn't fit so nicely in cotton crop tops and spandex. 

Yes, I buy your key chains

And Yes, I buy your hats

Because my keys may fit your rings but my waist will never fit your skirts

The circumference of my head may equal your hats but my mind my beautiful huge fat mind will never fit your mold. 

You tell me that your clothes are one size fits all

But by saying that you tell me that since they don't fit me 

If I am not all, then inherently I am none. 

Now I am not saying that if you are skinny you are in the wrong

You should be proud of your physique

You are beautiful

You are not the villain 

But your self love is never questioned

No one ever wonders if you think you are beautiful

Which is an injustice to you as well

But because I am full figured 

My confidence should not be invalidated

Your shape is beautiful

And so is mine

We are different sizes

Your size is lovely, yet my size is too

But by putting us in the same mold

They limit us both

They don't acknowledge that our differences can be beautiful too.  

Your clothes are telling girls they are pretty

As long as pretty fits your minimalistic marketing sceme

I stand outside your store and the racks of clothes that will never fit stare blankly back at me


I step inside and see your beautiful tall carbon copy girls standing at the counter. 

Asking if I need help while knowing that anything I try on will just look sad 

While their clothes hang off them loosely mind will be bursting at the seams 

While the little girl inside of me is burst in my gut 

She's screaming and crying because she will never feel beautiful

Because she will never be the size of femininity 

She's choking on the guilt that you're forcing down my throat

The guilt that tastes like burnt coffee, and ashtrays. 

She's sputtering and gasping for breathe

As she drowns in the over whelming sea of pastel sweatpants and lace bralettes. 

She's taking her final gulps of air and thinks she is all alone. 

But she's not. 

I am an athlete

My thick thighs and wide shoulders are the marks of a swimmer 

I like to eat

My pudgy stomach and large arms can attest to that

But neither of those things are a crime

 I will never fit your clothes

Because they were never made for me

As females we bear different waistlines and various shapes

Yet that does not make one more beautiful

Beauty is not in the size of your clothes

Beauty is in the scar you have on your leg from when you tried to walk in your mothers heels for the first time

Beauty is in the stretch marks of a new mother

Beauty is in the curly hair of a beautiful black women

It's in the straight blonde hair of the teenage girl 

It's in the messy bun of the college student on her way to class

It's in the strong arms of the girl who was the first female wrestler in her school

It's in the bumps and bruises and cuts that adorn our bodies 

Showing that we have lived

It is not nor will it ever be

in the clothes that we drape across our bodies

No women is one thing, one experience, one thought 

So why do you expect us all to be one size?

I am done with making myself smaller

I will be as large as the clouds that fly above my head

I will be as loud as the rumble of the subway beneath my feet

 I will be huge, gigantic, enormous

And if you cannot make clothes that fit all that I will be 

Then I don't want them anyways. 



The girl who refuses to fit the mold


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This poem is about: 
Our world


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