Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

on the program. I was dressed in a flouncy gypsy costume that probably made me look twice as heavy; and after I finished my song, I went up to Tommy and said, "Hey Tommy, how did I do?" And he looked at me and nodded his head hopelessly and muttered, "Connie, you'd have looked better if you wore your accordion." I didn't know what he meant at first. Then it struck me. He didn't like the way I was dressed. So I went home and told my mom what he said. "Why don't you make a pretty dress for yourself. Connie?" my mom said, trying to pick up my spirits. "I'm no good at sewing," I told her. "But you'll never learn if you don't try," she emphasized. The following Saturday I went to a yard-goods store and bought some brown plaid material. I decided I'd make a skirt. I spent seven dollars on the fabric, and when I finished it, I tried it on and I looked like a blimp. I had made it too small. It had taken me weeks to finish it, and I was so disappointed I started to cry. But, you can cry just so much without getting fed up with yourself. Then and there I told myself I had to face the fact I was a mess. I was fat. Why? I was always eating salami sandwiches and sugar cookies and pizza pies. I never paid any attention to what I ate. And I never looked after my appearance the way a girl should. When I went to bed that night. I vowed that tomorrow would be the dawn of a new Connie. I don't know what made me so determined to change. Maybe it was my anguish over the brown plaid skirt I'd spent weeks sewing. Or maybe it was just the plain hard fact I was going out of my way to look unattractive and the fellows didn't like me. I couldn't sleep that night. I kept tossing and turning, wondering how I could make such a big change. That next morning I went to my health teacher at school and told her I wanted to lose weight, and she sat me down and explained what I should eat. Meats, vegetables, fruits and milk. Hero sandwiches? They were out. My mom's chocolate cakes? Out! Pizza pies and soda-pop and candy? Taboo. I decided I wouldn't tell anyone I was going to change my eating habits because I was afraid they'd persuade me not to. When I went home, I just sat silently at the supper table and ate only what the teacher told me I should. Both my mom and dad looked at me as if I was sick. Well, I was. Sick of the way I looked. "Eat, eat," my mom said. "Look at all those delicious mashed potatoes on your plate." I tried to look up and smile. "But . . . but I'm not hungry," I managed to say, and I got up from the table. I was afraid if I stayed they'd coax me into eating. But the most upsetting thing of all was that a month passed and nothing happened. I didn't look any different. And I had a frightening suspicion that I would never lose any weight, that my trouble was glandular. Then, during that fifth week, I weighed myself on our bathroom scale and I had lost five pounds! The following week I lost another five. In another month I had lost twentyeight pounds! I couldn't believe it. I was down to one hundred pounds. I'd look at myself in the mirror and shake my head. That wasn't me; if it was, it was a ghost. But I liked it! None of my clothes fit me, of course, and even my shoe size changed from a seven to a five and a half. Boys began paying attention to me, and all of a sudden I noticed the other girls at school were jealous. I had more respect for myself now, and I started to think about clothes and make-up and looking pretty. Oh, I goofed plenty of times — like the day I put on so much rouge and somebody wisecracked that I looked like a floozy. I was shattered, to say the least. But I learned, and I learned because I wasn't afraid to ask questions of my teachers and friends. Now, perhaps, you can understand how deeply thrilled I was when Macy's called me and asked me to pose as their Cinderella in their fabulous Thanksgiving Day parade. I never dreamed such an honor would be bestowed upon me, the fat girl from Newark, New Jersey. Though I'm still not, and never will be, a fashion model type, you'll pardon me I'm sure for being pretty pleased with the changes that occurred to me — changes which enabled me to like myself well enough to try to be somebody. Pardon me also if I make like an expert for a moment now and give others, who may be in a spot like I was, a little advice, learned in the school of experience. IF YOU'RE SHORT, as I am, remember you've got to watch your weight constantly. One extra pound can look like ten. Don't wear horizontal stripes, even though you can't resist the color or the fabric of the dress or skirt. Every hori I zontal stripe you wear adds poundage to your appearance, and there are dozens of other designs styled especially for you. The all-one-color look on a short girl is great because it lengthens the body. That's why I buy matching blouses, skirts. Make the most of your petite femininity. The Peter Pan collar, shortie cotton i gloves, slim gold bracelets — all these are delicate and might be lost on a larger girl. But they look very natural and lovely on a short girl. IF YOU'RE TALL, don't slump or stoop because you're just calling attention to your figure, and you look like you're ready i for the grave. Designers say tall girls shouldn't be afraid of dramatic colors, which heavy and skinny girls have to bypass. Don't be afraid to wear a medium heel; it doesn't add that much extra height. Wearing flats all the time gives you a tomboy look. The three-quarter coat is ideal for the tall girl; it breaks up the line of her figure. Horizontal stripes, sharp color contrasts, big belts are swell, too. IF YOU'RE THIN, beware of sleeveless blouses, particularly if your arms are bony. And don't wear airy fabrics unless they're draped or bunched up. You should wear linens and velvets and heavy tweeds rather than cottons, taffetas, fine wools. Take advantage of the drama in big full skirts, puffy sleeves, plaid jumpers, bows and pleats and frills — so many things most girls can't wear. IF YOU'RE HEAVY, you have the easiest problem of all because you can do j something about it — lose weight. Wear medium-length skirts, and be sure | they fall evenly and aren't pulled tight across your hips. Have you ever noticed how a heavy-set girl who pays attention to details (such as fit and a lovely neckline, polished shoes, freshly ironed clothes) always looks beautifully put together next to someone with a doll-like figure who de-emphasizes her loveliness by dressing like a beatnik? But most important, if you're too fat or thin, if you have a problem you can do something about, wake up tomorrow morning and really decide to change! 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