1.0Soft Sensibilitieshttps://kimberlypearl.co/blogKimberlyhttps://kimberlypearl.co/blog/author/kimberlypearl-92gmail-com/rich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="3IZwWC1ody"><a href="https://kimberlypearl.co/blog/love-handles/">Love Handles</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://kimberlypearl.co/blog/love-handles/embed/#?secret=3IZwWC1ody" width="600" height="338" title="“Love Handles” — Soft Sensibilities" data-secret="3IZwWC1ody" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://kimberlypearl.co/blog/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> Since working from home, I’ve had no gauge of how my body has changed. Has it grown? Softened and stretched—sagged even—with sedentary idleness? Of course it has, the little voice in my head seethes. She’s the product of society, of the patriarchy, the one who’s always reminding me of how far from perfect I’ll always be. But without pants (as in proper trousers or true, no-stretch denim) I have no bearing on my body’s fluctuations; neither does she. No measure of size, no means of comparing how my present self fares against a past version, the one who wore size 25 jeans. And it has been  f r e e i n g . .   .   . xx {images via, via}http://kimberlypearl.co/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/reformation-chinese-inspired-silk-qipao-dress-anissa-kermiche-love-handles-terracotta-vase.jpg