The Eye of the Beholder by SisterJezabel..,

I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, writing wise. I felt Nude Day was as good a thing to test myself with, seeing I find it a challenging concept. As always, the ambitious acrobats who helped so much with reading and editing this for me, deserve abundant admiration.

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Davina

To be the black sheep of my family would have been something. Instead, I was the invisible sheep. Sheep, yes, because although I tried to escape and make my own way in the world, I was still dragged back home and returned like the dutiful daughter. This time, it was for my brother Daniel’s wedding.

Daniel was the eldest. He was the smartest, the fittest, the funniest, and the better looking of the two of us. He followed Dad into real estate like the dutiful son and after spreading wild oats– too numerous to count, I suspect– he’s marrying Debbie. Yep. They’ll be Daniel and Debbie de Duchy. That’s a lot of D. More than I’ve seen in a long, long time.

It’s not that I hated Daniel, per se, but, well, I was never going to fall into real estate. I’d seen the deals de Duchy de Luxe have made around town, and I don’t agree with most of them. My parents probably don’t even know my opinion because it’s never mattered. I was good enough to demand the presence of and tease at family events but not good enough to have an opinion or to amount to anything in their eyes.

The fact that I didn’t become a hairdresser like my mother or follow in my brother’s footsteps in the family firm means I’ve been forgotten, except when events like the wedding come around, and that’s actually fine by me. I do okay. I’d got my own shop that caters to curvy women and am always trying to encourage new designers to think outside the box and realise that not only is not every woman a size six, but what looks great on a size six may not look great on a size twenty.

I left home as soon as I finished school and moved to the other side of the city, much to my father’s chagrin. Why anyone would choose to live westside instead of the leafy east was beyond his comprehension.

Working in retail whilst I finished school, I’d picked up a lot about running a business. After I left home, I got a job in a chain store that catered to larger women. Seeing the mark-ups on the items and knowing that they were being manufactured in sweatshops in Asia didn’t sit well with me, though.

I was at the gym when I was approached by someone who told me she was doing a design course and wanted to cater to curvy women. She asked for my input in a range she was designing for her degree, and we clicked. Sabine has been a great friend ever since and helped me launch Curvilicious, first as an online venture and then as with a retail front on the edge of the city.

Social media saw growth we never expected and introduced me to so many women who were looking for the same things as me–sustainable fashion for the curvy lady. Sabine tapped into an amazing group of designers, all of whom sell through our shop.

Mum and Dad know I work in retail, but they have no idea I run a business with Sabine, and we are doing really well.

“Davina, darling,”–I made the mistake of answering my mother’s call during a lull in the shop– “I was touching up Margie Smith’s roots, and she has a new line of shapewear in, and I’ve told her you’ll be needing some for the wedding.”

Yep, not only was Daniel marrying Debbie, but I was Davina, daughter of David and Danielle. Fuck. My. Life.

“Thanks, Mum, but I’m all set.”

“The bridesmaid’s in a lovely mauve colour, even though it doesn’t suit poor Christine.” I thought purples suited most people, but what would I know? “I’m wearing turquoise. Debbie’s mother is in royal blue. You aren’t still thinking of wearing pink? I mean, navy would be more slimming, and you know you can’t wear black to a wedding.”

Walking towards the door, I rattled the bell. “Someone’s just come in, Mum, but I’m all set. I’ll see you for the rehearsal dinner on Friday.”

I hung up, no doubt before my mother told me she’d ordered me fruit for dessert as there were too many calories in the pavlova they were serving. It had taken some years of therapy, but I recognised I was healthy. I worked out at the gym a few times per week, and my doctor always told me my cholesterol levels and blood pressure were great.

My body was never going to be confused for a stick insect. My last boyfriend used to tell me I had curves for miles, and he adored my large bust. He hated it when I told him I was going to get a reduction after I’d had kids. I should never have been surprised when I discovered he’d been cheating on me. He went on to marry a very slender blonde woman with extremely fake tits. Part of me thought this was ironic; another part was just sad.

Other women with large breasts know the struggle. Sabine and I have been fortunate to team up with Marnie, who is a lingerie designer, and she has changed so much for me. Being an F cup herself, she knew the struggle. I’ve never been able to wear a bra with a single hook that a guy could undo with one hand. It’s always been at least three and wide straps across my shoulders. Heaven forbid ever needing a strapless bra.

The bell ringing for real brought me out of my thoughts.

“Speak of the devil!” I laughed as Marnie entered with bags of new stock.

“Speaking to yourself again, Dav. First sign of insanity!”

“Nah, I just had my mother on the phone.”

“I still can’t believe they never even asked if you would be bringing a date to your brother’s wedding.”

“I’m pretty sure they all think I’m still a virgin that no one in their right mind would want to touch. Must admit though, I’ve been feeling like a born-again virgin recently as the only action I get is from my battery-operated boyfriend.”

Marnie’s parents were great. They supported their daughter no end, and she had brunch with them every weekend, along with her wife, Mei.

“Is Sabs here yet? I can’t wait to see this dress!” Sabine and Marnie had been in cahoots in designing something for me to wear to the wedding. I would have been just as happy grabbing something off one of our many racks, but they both insisted, and I knew they did it out of love.

“Nah, she’s running late. Mum asked if I was still wearing the pink and suggested navy as it would be more slimming.”

“Your mum’s a fucking moron. But I think I’m preaching to the choir. Plus, it’s more a cerise and verging on red.”

“My mother would have no idea that there were different shades of pink! My main concern is the bra still.”

“I’ve got it here! You can try it on with the dress when Sabs arrives.”

I had faith in Marnie, but I was still concerned that Sabine had convinced me to go with a one-shoulder number. I’d never worn a strapless dress in my life and usually kept my arms and shoulders firmly covered. But I trusted my friends. I’d tried on a mock-up of the dress in some scrap fabric Sabs had lying around, but tonight was the final fitting. Well, it was actually the first fitting of the real thing.

“Sorry I’m late.” Sabine rushed through the door with several garment bags hanging over her arms. “I ran out of thread and had to rush to grab some more in the same shade. Hey Marns, you brought the lingerie?”