A Different Beauty

I feel like people in college are more keen to accept exotic beauty. As the awkward girl in high school, I was never the toned, tanned blonde every girl aspired to be. Never was I an Abercrombie or Hollister billboard, nor did I have smudges of smokey eye coating my upper eye lids. I was tall, thin, bow legged, and simple. I beat myself up for years over being the plain jane.While most girls complained about their thighs being too big, I envied the strong appearance of their leg muscles which was highlighted by their perfect tans. Kimberly Wegan, a soccer player, had the most perfect pair of legs I had ever seen. Whether her shorts were tight or loose fitting, they always managed to look good. Even in basketball shorts, you could see the streamline of her atheltetic build. Although she was short in stature and had large thighs, they were by no means flabby and were very nicely shaped along with tight calves and dainty ankles on which her left one, a soccerball ankle bracelet adorned. I, on the other hand, was the owner of long, skinny, shapeless legs which came in the most dull shade of brown. Or so I thought. The fact that I was bow-legged didn't make it any better either. One day during passing, I heard someone whisper "I think she's going to break!" I envied the glowing fake tans of white girls and decided that my skin was "dull, sallow, MEXICAN brown". I convinced myself I wasn't tan, but that I looked as if I had been playing in the dirt all day in the hot sun. Contrary to the belief that latinas have curvy voluptous bodies, I was the absolute opposite. In fact, I noticed that even if a white girl appeared to look wider than I because her hips were larger, her waist appeared to be almost the same, or sometimes even smaller than mine due to my lack of hip projection. I have cousins who were blessed with curvy hips, and even they have a slight pooch in their stomach, while I noticed that a white girl with relatively the same size hip will somehow manage to maintain a flat belly. Every day I threw on a plain t-shirt and jeans, in an attempt to remain un-noticed. Maybe If I hide in these clothes, no one will notice my lack of curves and sense of insecurity. If I plaster on a hollister logo, every one will notice I am not atheletic, feminine or curvaceous; even worse, everyone will notice I am not white. Never did I see myself doing photoshoots in high-waisted shorts and platforms. Nor did I ever picture myself being a topic of conversation. I never knew people who didn't know my name would see me and refer to me as "that one chick who models". Never did I believe that long skinny legs could be feminine and sexy, or that a vintage tee and jeans against a long lean frame on a brick wall background would be considered art. In fact, I never paid mind to a world of fashion beyond your typical suburban high school in which Abercrombie and its subsidides dominate the hallways. That is the difference between hallways and runways. High school was all about blending in. College, and the runway is all about standing out.