How I Discovered Black

I realized how addicted I am to black clothing after reading my co-worker Heather’s blog “How to Add Color to Your Look,” which chronicled her efforts to step out of her comfort zone. The notion was confirmed when Sheila, another MyShape co-worker and blogger, referred to my wardrobe as “Chekhovian.” It’s amazing how one word can sum up an aesthetic—even one you may have just stumbled into. Do I wear lots of black? Yes. Do I feel off-kilter in color? Yes. Is a Russian playwright hiding in my closet? Yes.

My closet wasn’t always a suitable haven for the Munsters. Until the late 1980s, I happily wore color. My favorite dress in first grade was baby blue with Juliet sleeves; in seventh grade I ran around in purple suede oxfords with giant grommets; in college I had a beloved, tattered red sweater that I thought was so New Wave and—OMG—which I wore with jazz shoes.

Then I saw Funny Face, where a dashing photographer and a zany fashion magazine editor meet a black-clad beatnik named Jo Stockton (played by Audrey Hepburn). Fashion war is declared with Audrey as a hostage. Her character is taken through a series of Stockholm syndrome-like maneuvers, and soon they transform the lithe bookworm into a gauzy, pastel fashion butterfly.

The made-over Jo was enchanting, and as played by Ms. Hepburn, how could she not be? But I felt wistful for the vanished gamine in inky turtleneck, skinny pants and loafers who danced in a dive bar as though the absence of color freed her from all restraint.

That Jo Stockton was streamlined and sleek, with a world of ideas in her head, not an awkward blonde poured into jeans and a pin-tucked top. For me, she outshone all previous icons: Emma Peel, Morticia Addams, Natasha Fatale, Bettie Page, the Sister Act nuns—all, coincidentally, wearers of black. So as an era saturated with Patrick Nagel illustrations faded away, so did my closet’s bright hues.

Black to Work

As it turns out, a conversion to black was inevitable. One of my first jobs was at an underground, underfunded fashion magazine. Jo Stockton had the Eiffel Tower; I had the downtown Los Angeles 7th Street bridge, transvestite hookers and pool halls. With little money, I needed to buy clothes that could withstand downtown grit, survive shoots, go to clubs and make after-midnight trips to Tommy’s for chili burgers.

What I wore: a jacquard A-line tunic and palazzo pants I’d stitched up myself, final markdowns and thrift shop finds—all black, so everything would match. I thought my efforts paid off when a California Apparel News reporter asked if I was wearing Gaultier. That’s when I realized that black could define an identity or suggest another one—someone who could afford Gaultier, perhaps. In addition, it deflected Diet Coke and camouflaged weight gain. And despite the Gaultier incident, to dress in all-black seemed to be devoid of ego—when you don’t have to worry about how you look, I reasoned, you can focus more on work.

Since then I’ve made lots of transitions in black—editor, art director and writer. Then, on a lark, I became a movie and TV extra. Extras usually provide their own wardrobe—in nearly any color except black. So as an underpaid, non-speaking, non-union extra, I needed to readapt. At first, baby steps.

A Little Brown, a Dose of Navy, Then on a Big Day, Grey

I was cast in a cable promo as a matron who drags a patient through a psych ward and out a door that, as my Lucy Ricardo-style stage luck would have it, wouldn’t shut properly and ruined almost every take. On Alias I dressed in plum and spent a day pretending to scream my head off during a nerve gas attack. And on Malcolm in the Middle I wore a vintage Lurex tiki-patterned sheath to a Las Vegas concert scene where I threw pink panties (not my own) at David Cassidy.

The point of these anecdotes: I discovered that color could be fun. Or at least it could lead to funny situations.

Black Again

Cut to the present. My film industry flirtation is long gone; my foray into color has dissolved into Impressionist strokes peeking through coal-black sleeves—red rosettes on a summer skirt, a gold silk cheongsam, a milk chocolate leather motocross-style jacket. To me, it’s no longer a question of What Would Audrey Wear?, hiding spills, skimming bulges, or creating or shedding an identity. Black has also become an organizing principle, a natural boundary—why fight it? So now when I see a great new sweater or top, I don’t hesitate to ask, “Does it come in black?”

Which reminds me, there’s a Byron Lars dress I’ve been considering.

With its fitted bodice and flared skirt, it could have come right out of Roman Holiday—and it only comes in black.

Posted by Joyce at MyShape

Let me start this by saying I am one of the worst offenders when it comes to relying on black clothing. It’s practical, chic, slimming and understated, so of course it’s often the easiest option. On the other hand, there’s no denying that clothes in the right colors can immediately enhance your appearance in a way that black doesn’t. So lately I’ve been stepping outside of my safe zone and exploring how color works with complexion and how to coordinate contrasting hues without getting a garish result.

Are You Warm or Cool?

Some will say the whole warm tones versus cool tones thing is hooey, but I’ve found it surprisingly helpful as a guideline. Once I determined that my skin has warm undertones (golden to olive) and that, for instance, certain shades of yellow and orange actually look good with warm-undertoned skin, I stopped avoiding these colors that I’d once feared would make me appear sallow.

Our model Adel has a warmer complexion, so this khaki and brown outfit works for her.

This top with a blue and purple print flatters our model Becky, whose skin has cooler undertones.

I try to keep it simple. Rather than worrying about whether I’m a spring, summer, fall or winter, I just scout for shades with a hint of yellow, orange or brown to them. I don’t wear powder pink, which tends to flatter people with cool complexions, meaning pinkish undertones. But I’ve found that I love deep coral pinks, which are warm and, if you look closely, have an orange tinge to them under the rosiness. Likewise, if your complexion is   cooler, the colors that flatter you most will also be cool tones with blue, purple or gray in them. Periwinkle, mint green, royal blue and bright fuchsia are all beautiful on people whose skin has cool undertones.

If you’re not sure whether your complexion is cool or warm, there’s a good chance you are “neutral,” which means you have a little of both types of undertones. This is not uncommon, and it means a broad range of colors will flatter you. A friend of mine has skin with cooler undertones, but her hair and eyes are dark brown, so chocolate and even tan clothing that picks up the natural hues of her coloring works well on her. A former MyShape coworker could wear pretty much any color and look fabulous in it because she had a warm skin tone and brown eyes but cool silver-white hair.

Even though the warm-cool guideline has been helpful to me, it’s still just that: a guideline. Which in my case has meant, yes, almost all warm colors look decent on me, but I’ve still had to experiment a little to figure out which warm colors are especially flattering to my skin, hair and eye tones.

Do These Colors “Match”?

Once you’ve found the hues that really make you glow, it’s easy to add one of them at a time to an otherwise neutral ensemble: black shoes, textured black tights, black pencil skirt and—surprise—mustard blouse. If you’re just going to wear one color that you feel great in, on top is a good location for it, since that places it closer to your face. But what about coordinating different colors in the same outfit? That can get tricky.

Consulting a color wheel is the easiest approach to pairing shades. Complementary colors—colors opposite each other on the wheel—look attractive together. Trina Turk’s Foxglove Dress takes the guesswork away by contrasting color wheel opposites coral and navy.

Different shades of the same color can also pair well, particularly if they both have the same undertones. So a cool dark blue and a cool light blue both tending more toward purple will look appealing together and on someone with cool coloring. A warm dark blue and warm light blue both tending more toward teal, which has yellow in it, will also coordinate nicely and flatter someone with warm coloring. Lily’s Cowl-Neck V-Detail Dress combines four shades of purple, and it works because they’re all cool tones—just in varying depths.

The “same color, different shades” strategy also works well when you’re trying to coordinate, say, a solid cardigan with a printed dress. You could select a cardigan exactly the same shade as one of the colors in the dress’s print. But this can feel matchy-matchy. So to mix things up a bit, why not add a cardigan that picks up a color in the print—only in a lighter or darker shade. For example, I have a silk dress with a brown ground under a multicolored floral print. The print has lighter warm colors, including a pale green with a yellowish tinge. I like to wear a darker teal-green cardigan over this dress even though the sweater’s precise color appears nowhere in the print. It’s an interesting combination but still works because the two greens have similar undertones and, thus, tie together.

All of that said, choosing colors remains, to a certain extent, an art rather than a science. Sometimes clashing colors can appear stylish, edgy and, yes, flattering. And if it makes you feel better—I know I did!—even my artist friends tell me they still aren’t always sure how to choose clothes in colors that make sense together. So why not take a risk every now and then? Though you may always remain devoted to your trusty neutrals, playing with other possibilities can be a lot of fun.

Posted by Heather at MyShape

It’s true what they say about Catholic schoolgirls…they wear the same thing every day. But that doesn’t mean it has to be boring.

Years before Britney Spears’s “Baby One More Time” topped the charts, I attended an all-girls Catholic high school where the basic uniform was a white Oxford shirt with a navy blue or navy, black and white checkered pleated skirt. Layering options ranged from thick navy cardigans to navy blazers with shoulder pads to navy V-neck pullover sweaters.

If you also lived the school-uniform experience, you know that even with all that navy, there’s still a style hierarchy and usually some creative license. I have no idea what the kids are doing nowadays, but back when I was a sophomore and Clueless was a new hit film, the object was to roll your skirt at the waistband to raise its hem just level with the hem of your plaid boxer shorts beneath, keep your shirt untucked outside of class and as barely tucked in as possible during class and complete the ensemble with knee-high hose and Mary Janes—preferably Doc Martens T-straps.

My favorite addition to the uniform, though, was tights ranging from lacy and black to ribbed and gray. Because cold weather and a dress code that didn’t permit pants forced me to learn to coordinate stockings with skirts, to this day interesting legwear is a staple for me—and, in fact, integral to the work “uniform” I’ve developed for myself since I graduated from college and moved my career beyond the concession stand at Edwards Cinemas.

Of course I don’t literally wear the same thing to the office every day. And of course MyShape is an ideal work environment for a little style experimentation. But since my time is valuable and I already spend plenty of it thinking about clothing, I’ve come to rely on a comfortable yet polished Monday-through-Friday equation that hasn’t failed me yet: cardigan plus nice fitted tee or knit top (easier to move in than a blouse and no chance for bust gapping) plus pencil or pleated skirt. In fall and winter I add tights. My favorite pair right now is black with a sort of Art Deco abstract leaf pattern. For footwear I rotate pointy black flats, pointy black kitten heels, black flat Mary Janes and black round-toed heels.

I wear skirts that hit at the knee or higher, though never at the shocking heights I attempted at age 14 that prompted my dad to comment on how “unproportional” I appeared. (I’m sure that was his primary concern with my attire.) I usually keep my tops short-sleeved or sleeveless to fit nicely under cardigans. Nothing could be easier. Sometimes I deviate by replacing the skirt and top with a dress or the skirt and tights with jeans. Did I mention my closet is also color-coded?

To some this formulaic way of dressing may sound as boring as literally wearing a uniform every day, but the idea is to create your own personalized go-to look based on what works for your taste, lifestyle and body. I choose tees and knits over blouses because I can get away with it in my more informal office and because I’m uncomfortable in collared, button-down shirts. I always include a cardigan because I’m cold in the office year round, but since I’m in Southern California, it’s often hot outside, which means I need to be able to take a layer off. I wear pleated and pencil skirts because I feel like they make my waist look slimmer and because I love their clean, classic lines. And I still let myself step outside the box when I feel like it.

Do you have a personal dress code? Is there an outfit combination that you consider your unique uniform? Why does it work for you?

Posted by Heather at MyShape

Everywhere you look, it seems another company has jumped onto the green-friendly bandwagon. But when it comes to eco-conscious consumption, nothing is black and white: in fact, sustainability comes in all shades of green. Some companies make a shirt from organic cotton and call it a day (we’ll call those mint), while others incorporate their values into their everyday business practices (which must be a rich, forest green).

So how do you negotiate the eco-marketplace? When I first became passionate about environmentalism, I was surprised by the option of bamboo fiber. Sure, bamboo can grow as much as 48 inches a day, but who reaches for a fibrous piece of bark over a fluffy ball of cotton? I’m not a panda (though I too favor a monochromatic color palate), so you’ll excuse my skepticism.

I can only imagine that, from the outside, it must have looked like a religious awakening the first time I slipped into a bamboo T-shirt. The fabric is unbelievably soft, and I was shocked at how long those greedy little pandas had been having all the fun. Endangered species? Yeah, right. Maybe if they weren’t hanging out in bamboo luxury all day, they’d have time to mate.

I recently discovered another great eco-friendly practice: making fabrics from recycled bottles. Cutting down on plastic consumption is a hot-button issue, with everyone from grocery stores to the neighborhood hipsters pushing reusable bags. But you can go above and beyond, actually taking used plastic out of the system by investing in recycled polyester garments made by PrAna. Each piece can save as many as 25 plastic bottles from ending up in landfills.

Of course the green revolution goes beyond just fabric. Many of MyShape’s brand partners incorporate sustainability into every aspect of their business, joining groups such as the Fair Trade Association and Organic Trade Association, which ensure fair business practices with local producers. For example, Jonano is working to produce greener factories while providing paid work opportunities for people with developmental disabilities. Both Pure and Neon Buddha, which have production centers in Thailand, incorporate fair-trade practices and donate a portion of profits to local NGOs. PrAna, a maker of chic and sustainable activewear, invests in wind-based electricity and estimate that their efforts have kept 12,000 tons of carbon out of the atmosphere in 2009.

So if you’re looking for clothes that fit your shape and your values, let MyShape help you be sustainable in style!

Posted by Terri at MyShape

Timidity, thy name is Terri.

I’ve always been one of those bookish, word-y types who didn’t have time for shopping. Throughout high school, college and my post-grad years, I was always more comfortable with poetry than Prada. Even the salesgirls at Nordstrom were like priestesses of a cult into which I was not initiated. I was intimidated. I went through my own five stages of fashion grief: Confusion, Denial, Anger, Embarrassment, Online Shopping.

If you’re like me, you know that traditional online shopping can be a nightmare. I never knew what would fit or what would look as good on my body as it did on those little headless mannequins. (I have a head and need a sweater that can work with that.) I was terrified of making a fashion faux pas, so I did my best to blend in. I may not be Giorgio Armani, but I knew that a jeans-and-T-shirt combo, if not super trendy, was at least completely inoffensive. (Yes, that was my fashion goal: looking inoffensive. Fun, right?)

After grad school, affectionately known as “the sweatpant years” (Hey! Those librarians don’t judge!), I came to work for MyShape. I’ll admit I was curious. I set up my Personal Shop and kept an eye on new arrivals but stuck with my mantra of “plain, plain, plain.” No risk-taking for me. Then one day a dress landed on my desk, and my boss happened to notice it. The dress was beautiful, and in my Personal Shop. She suggested I try it on. It was cute. I liked it—for someone else. Because the dress had…ruffles. Ruffles stood out. Ruffles were eye-catching. Ruffles were the enemy.

After a mix of coaxing and some very unsubtle peer pressure, I went to try it on. It didn’t look good. It looked great. Beyond great. It was all I could do not to strut through the IT department of our office like it was a runway in Milan. Suddenly, I started looking at the other items in my Personal Shop—previously disregarded with no small amount of pre-judgment—with a distinctly suspicious eye. Could that pleated skirt actually look good? Was a surplice top really right for me? Could I secretly be…stylish?

This isn’t a Cinderella story. Our CEO did not wave a ShapeMatch wand and turn me into Kate Moss. I still rely on our fashion team’s outfits and tips when I’m unsure of how to wear a dress. But I have help. Because, with my Personal Shop, I can experiment with the assurance that everything I buy will look good with my shape. And I’ve come to realize that maybe, just maybe, I have room in my life for short stories and short skirts.

Posted by Terri at MyShape

Back in the day, before thoughts about feathering a retirement nest entered my radar, I spent every spare dime I had on clothes. Utterly impulse driven, I bought indiscriminately, not worrying if anything went with anything else. If Diana Vreeland once famously remarked, “Elegance is refusal,” I never heard it.

So what did all that shopping get me? Nada. Most of the stuff was never worn or barely worn or was just plain hideous. (It was the ’80s.) I learned a very expensive lesson. These days, I’m watching every penny.

Which brings me to the wish list. Sure, you could think of it as a way to cajole gifts out of loved ones, but how about using it as a style development/culling tool? It forces you to slow down and really think about what you want and, more importantly, need. Try to confine your choices to one page so you can look at them all at once. Be ruthless in your questioning. How often will you really wear it? How many other things does it go with? And does it fill a big, gaping hole in your wardrobe?

But who am I to lecture? Let’s start with my wish list (note: I didn’t put jeans on the list because I have enough at the moment, and I’m not really a big trouser person, so I left them out too):

Hmm. Two jackets and two dresses. I’m afraid one of each will have to go. Refusal, remember? Okay, so I’m worried the Catherine Malandrino is a tad trendy (but I love the color), but the Liz Claiborne seems so, I don’t know…librarian. (No offense to my mother, who is one.) However, I think I can do more with it, accessory-wise. Interesting hose or spiky-heeled boots would spice it up. Actually, just about any type of shoe would work with it—pumps, slingbacks, flats…even platform sandals when the weather is warmer. I could paint my toenails some offbeat color, wear a funky bracelet.

The Malandrino, on the other hand, is a tougher nut to diversify. (Says you!) Maybe a black cardigan over it for an office look. (Yesss!) Then add classic pumps, pearl studs. (Uh-huh, you got it.) But that asymmetrical shoulder business. (Oh, God, I love the shoulder business. PLEASE DON’T TOUCH THAT SHOULDER BUSINESS!!!) It’s so memorable. Maybe too memorable. And is the color really me? (Of course it’s you, idiot. And look at your wish list. Do you want to look like a pallbearer the rest of your life?) Oh, boy. This is going to be a battle.

Now full disclosure: I actually bought the Calvin Klein Jeans velveteen jacket and wear it all the time. I didn’t have a decent jacket, only a windbreaker, heavy coats and thin cardigans. I’m generally indifferent to outerwear. Coats and jackets are never on long enough to matter. But I absolutely love my jacket, and it’s filled a big, gaping wardrobe hole. I keep it on my wish list so I can make sure things work with it. But I also love that L.A. Kitty tie-waist jacket, and there’s a color in the plaid that happens to match the Catherine Malandrino dress perfectly. (I’m just sayin’!)

Okay, now I make a mental note: I could use a skirt. A black one would work with all three tops. And all three tops would work with the gray jacket. And the gray jacket would work with the Claiborne dress. And the bag would go with everything, except the hardware is silver, and I wonder if that’d confine me to silver jewelry or if I’m just overthinking it.

I could always let fate decide. Wait for whatever sells out first, then buy the other, but that doesn’t seem very proactive. And isn’t that the point?

And to think, as an employee of MyShape, I don’t get to enter that $500 “win your wish list” contest. Drat! The Malandrino would be mine…

Why six? Well, I was going to blog about five, but I couldn’t eliminate any one of these amazing pieces that went right to my wish list the moment they appeared on our site. Aside from the perfect slouchy suede boots with a not-too-low, not-too-high heel, which I haven’t been able to find anywhere yet, below are my top winter wardrobe must-haves. You may notice a theme—most of them sculpt and accentuate the waist, which is Figure Flattering 101 for an M like me.

1. Fit-and-Flare Wool Coat ($178)

This Jessica Simpson coat is first on my list because of the impeccable tailoring that works well on many shapes, not just an M. The trapunto-stitched insert that tapers at the waist and the single row of buttons slim the body’s center, but the generous gored skirt that offsets a strong shoulder line really makes this vintage-inspired topper special. The oversized face-framing collar also suckered me in. It’s dramatic and practical, leaving space for a fluffy scarf.

2. Belted Silk Dress ($341)

Bianca Nero knows exactly how to pare down her designs without turning them generic. In the case of this silk and Lycra dress, she pretty much lets the gorgeous, sensual hue speak for itself in a classic sheath shape. You’re not restricted to the included belt, which is detachable, either. Just substitute a metallic or graphic-motif belt or even a printed scarf to create a new look. I also love how the neckline isn’t plunging but still looks sexy with all that ruching that plays up the bust—another nice touch for an M. I normally gravitate toward lower-cut tops that balance my straight shoulders, but this dress achieves the same effect a little more creatively with the ruching forming vertical lines. It is a Bianca Nero, so it’s a little pricier, but it’s a look that could be worn for years, not only to formal events like weddings but also for more casual parties and even the office.

3. Straight-Leg Jeans ($68)

Good jeans are hard to find—so who better to turn to than MyShape, where you can have dozens of jeans styles matched to your specific measurements in your Personal Shop? The Sutters Jane Jeans made my must-haves list because they’re available in a versatile wash without any whiskering or distressing, and they’ll coordinate with just about any type of shoe: boots, flats, stilettos. Even round-toed heels tend to look appropriate with slim-fitting, straight-leg jeans, whereas I’d never pair my favorite round-toed, vintage-style pumps with flared jeans. (Pointy toes still work perfectly with straight legs too, though.)

4. Jewel-Toned Wrap Sweater ($118)

The color, the texture, the deep ribbed hem…sigh. This adorable wrap sweater from Urchin Knitwear goes with both dresses and jeans, and the design instantly lengthens the torso while slimming the waist. Without my Personal Shop I used to have a hard time finding wrap tops and dresses that fit well, but now it’s a no-brainer. And it’s really a shame to skip over such a flattering classic silhouette that instantly shapes the bust, waist and hips.

5. Marbled Sweater Tunic ($45.90)

I have no idea how this piece ended up on sale in almost every size before selling out. Yes, it’s essentially a sweater vest, but that doesn’t mean you have to prep your whole look out by pairing it with an Oxford shirt. I’m layering this tunic from Mac & Jac with long-sleeved tees and wearing it over my Sutters Jane Jeans. It’s stretchy enough to outline my waist curve but sturdy enough that it doesn’t cling to every jiggly bit of flesh. Plus, check out how the knitted twist design down the center draws out a flattering vertical line.

6. Curvy Pencil Skirt ($198)

And finally…the perfect black pencil skirt. You have no idea how happy I am that this wool-blend Trina Turk skirt is in my Personal Shop. Like most Ms, I happen to have a butt. So finding a pencil skirt that fits both my waist and posterior can be really, really difficult. I typically wear pleated and A-line styles, but I’ve been wanting to embrace the Mad Men aesthetic with a pencil silhouette. This is the one! I’m completely enamored by the way its pleats create volume that contrasts with the high cinched waist and pegged hem. Hello, retro va-va-voom!

A Dutch inventor (female) has created a garment that smoothes out the wearer’s cleavage, keeping it wrinkle-free. Picture a racerback sports bra worn backwards and you get the idea. You wear it while you sleep and it spreads the breasts apart so folds don’t become permanent. (Oh, those clever Dutch. Weren’t wooden shoes enough?)

Okay, that was a long lead-in to the topic I’m blogging about—mature breasts. Big or small, breasts luxuriate as they grow older, relaxing and growing comfortable in their own skin. Ironically, despite our youth-besotted-meta-breast-obsessed culture, this seems to be the most appropriate moment to show them off, wrinkles and all. Why? Well, there’s actually a very practical reason to go “lower.” Higher necklines exaggerate the distance between face and bust (especially on those “bad bra” days) making the breasts appear much lower than they are. But if you go with a lower neckline, you notice the curves, not the distance. Charlotte Tarantola’s Ribbed Top with Ruffle and Jewel Detail is a great way to flatter what you’ve earned.

You could, of course, layer a cami or shell underneath if you want to expose a little less cleavage, but the point is: don’t hide it. Low necklines aren’t just for the young who flash cleavage to encourage reproduction-based pairing. Older women—those who’ve passed reproductive age—are revealing the eternal mystery and joy that dwell in that soft, dark crevice where children have nursed, tears have been shed and nuzzles much enjoyed.

How and when joy, love and experience (read: forgiveness) got stripped out of the definition of sexy is probably a discussion for another blog, so until then if you got it, flaunt it. People who dwell on cleavage wrinkles be damned.

There is something about the term “plus size” that has never sat well with me. Am I an equation? If you add a size 6 to my size 16, does that give you the theory of fashionable relativity? That’s the thing about sizes—we cannot become defined by them. We have to do our curvy best to navigate our way through stylish waters.

For the curvaceous set it can be hard to find flattering clothing without looking like you’re ready for retirement or 10 years late for a Marilyn Manson concert. Igigi has answered the call. No, it’s not the name of a Saturday morning children’s cartoon but a contemporary label founded by Yuliya Raquel to “transform the world’s view of beauty.”

I have to admit I was skeptical. Many years of leaving stores with cheap or not-so-cheap garments made of flimsy material that was only a tad bit flattering has left me a little plus-shy. Listen up all my voluptuous ladies and raise your hands up: I finally found something worth my style dollars.

Raquel’s designs get the three elements of what makes garments for our bodies sing: fabric, color and structure. Let me tell you about two looks that went on my must-have list.

Dresses are your best friends, and I stockpile them for all occasions. A style that hits right above the knee is probably one of the most flattering things you can ever wear because it maximizes the positive. One of the best parts of working for MyShape is that I know the whole gamut of plus size styles we have (there are so many). So when I go gaga over something, I sign in to my Personal Shop, just like you do, and order.

Igigi got me to sign in immediately. From the time I slinked into Igigi’s Kamryn Viscose Stretch-Jersey Dress (which just happens to be on sale now), my feet did a little dance. Bright colors are nothing to be afraid of, I reassured myself. They are instantly slimming and make me stand out from the crowd in a good way. I was also impressed by the medium weight of the fabric and the lining underneath. It molded to the natural curves of my body while the lining smoothed out my least favorite peaks and valleys. A day I don’t have to fuss with my beloved Spanx goes in the record books. Dresses also break up my body into threes: a little highlight on the chest, exposed arms and a chance to show off my great legs.

Everyone needs an LBD. I need several. For those who have been reading BusinessWeek instead of Vogue, that means a “Little Black Dress,” and believe me, Coco Chanel was right when she said an LBD is an essential to any stylish wardrobe. Since the holiday season calls for party clothes for social events (and hopefully a little romance), I want a new LBD that fits the bill but doesn’t break the bank.

’Tis the season for the Anais Jewel-Neck Viscose Jersey Dress, and it’s perfect for any height, especially petites (OK, so I’m not petite, but it works for me too!) This dress really opens up the body with a sweetheart neckline that’s embellished with faux jewels, so I won’t be wearing distracting necklaces with this one—another cost-saving factor. Those gorgeous jewels bring all the attention upward to my collarbone and face. Yes, I like my face! In this case having people say you have a pretty face is not a read-between-the-lines message—it’s a compliment caused by a great dress.

Having a few extra curves does not mean you have to sacrifice quality for style or vice versa. Designers like Igigi are beginning to understand that we crave the same looks as our single-digit sisters. This cannot be defined by words but rather by the way we feel when we find dresses that get it just right. Now that is a plus.

Sometimes the command “Be confident!” is much easier said than followed—and really sounds quite trite. Like most teenagers, I spent too much time obsessing over my “weak” chin, my upturned “hog nose” (as one of my classmates termed it), my perpetually frizz-tastic hair. Then, at 17, I read a magazine article on how women in France define beauty and personal style, and I learned about an empowering little phrase that completely altered the way I viewed myself.

Trust me, I’m not some slobbering Francophile who thinks our beret-and-scarf-wearing sisters across the pond have all the fashion answers. But in this case they’re really on to something, and it’s even bigger than fashion. The French have a term, belle laide, that celebrates the magnetic appeal of individuality. The belle laide or, translated literally, “beautiful ugly” woman (though, unfortunately, there’s truly no comparable term in English) may not be a conventional beauty whose features fit an arbitrary golden metric of proportional perfection, but she doesn’t hide what some would call her flaws. In fact, she flaunts them. If she has a high forehead, she doesn’t cover it with bangs. If she has very thin lips, she doesn’t try to create a painted illusion that they’re fuller. She embraces what is distinctive about her physical features, and in doing so emanates an irresistible self-assurance.

This idea extends from the face to body shape. Sure, an hourglass figure is gorgeous…but so is an athletic figure with elegant broad shoulders, and so is a figure with a smaller bust and goddess-like curvaceous hips. No matter what shape you are, you’ve got features that differentiate you from every other woman—so why not proudly play up what makes you you?

Who wants be one of a million clones, no matter how “perfect” those clones try to be? Why should any of us want to look just like anybody else? When we acknowledge and own what makes our bodies unique, we make a visual statement that we’re not only comfortable with ourselves but value ourselves. And that is the most attractive fashion statement of all.