From the Introduction
“When the baby weight didn’t come off as fast as online forums promised, I tried to counteract my hideous rib-cage spreading by wearing a spandex corset five hours a day. I bought thicker makeup and brighter lipstick to disguise the haggard face I met in the mirror. Weekly, sometimes daily, I found myself digging through bins at a street-side sample warehouse near our apartment, believing something at the bottom of the bin would have the power to make me happy, or satisfied, or sexy, or whatever it was that suddenly, inexplicably, I wasn’t.
In February 2007, I threw up the white flag of surrender. I had become a nervous, critical, angry, insecure woman. I was not the woman or the role model I wanted to be, especially in front of a big-eyed baby daughter. I was at war with the world around me and at war with myself—the only self I had. And so I swore off Beauty and all her trappings: makeup, new clothes, salon haircuts, jewelry, the works. I told very few people what I was doing, took detailed but sporadic notes, and had only a vague sense of a goal: something needed to change for the better.”