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I wanted to look like my friends, in strappy vests and low-slung jeans but my body made it impossible. When Mum told me something didn’t suit me, or that I needed a bigger size, it was because she wanted me to have clothes that fitted and looked good. What she meant was that the clothes were wrong. What I heard was that my body was wrong. Rebecca opens up about her struggle with shopping as part of Stella's One Day series So, in my mid-teens, we came to an unspoken understanding: shopping wasn’t an activity to be undertaken together. Which was fine until I got engaged last year and needed to find a wedding dress. I put off dress shopping for 14 months but as the wedding got closer, my anxiety began to border on obsession. ‘It’s not all about the dress,’ I told people over and over again. ‘I don’t really care,’ I lied. Things got worse when, on a family holiday earlier this year, I wandered the shops with my mother and sister. ‘You know what I’m going to say,’ my mother told me, as I came out of a changing room in a floaty sundress. ‘You need the bigger size.’ There was no bigger size (I’m a 14). It was a tiny boutique filled with equally tiny clothes. I put the dress back on the hanger and tried to hold back my tears.
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