The Changing Room This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   She walked out of the rain and into the store, trying to find something that would flatter her figure and bring out her best features. She slowly walked down each aisle, occasionally stopping to get a better look at different articles of clothing. She found something that looked all right but, then again, they always looked all right hanging on the rack. She knew that she'd have to try it on to be sure - really sure.

She entered the changing room and slipped out of her clothing. First the green sweater, fuzzy from many washings. Then the white, too tight tee-shirt that made her look chubby. Her shoes came off next, revealing her favorite pair of worn-out socks - the thick ones with the rainbow stripes. She smiled slightly as they came into view. Lastly, the faded brown corduroys which kept her warm on chilly days like this one. She stood with her back to the mirror, like she always did, to hide from her reflection. She slipped the dress over her head, reveling in the smoothness of the lining against her skin, while at the same time enjoying the softness of the crushed velvet exterior.

It felt nice, but as she knew from experience, just because you felt good in something, it didn't mean that you looked good. She sighed. Slowly she turned around, dreading what she would see. It was a girl, a little chubby, with wavy brown hair and deep green eyes. She was tall, had a fair complexion and the beginnings of a frown on her face. The girl was wearing a burgundy dress that didn't make her look fat, but didn't make her look thin either. It clung protectively to her legs, making them look long and shapely. All in all, you would say that she was pretty, but nothing special, nothing beautiful.

She sighed again and slipped out of the dress. While changing back into her own clothes, she thought about how beautiful the dress was, how it was made for someone who could wear it well and make it look the way it was meant to look, not for someone like her. She left the booth and walked out of the changing room, a place that always made her feel worthless, a place that always filled her with the longing to be someone else. Why couldn't the changing room be a real changing room, somewhere she could change the way she looked or at least the way she looked at herself? She returned the dress to the rack and walked out of the store, back into the rain.


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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Syarra_Greenwood said...
Apr. 15, 2010 at 2:33 pm
omg this like totally hit home with me i really liked it
 
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