Plus Size Acceptance: My Experience Wearing Pasties For The First Time at a Rave
“Damn! I wish I had her lady balls” was the prominent thought I had throughout most of Nocturnal Wonderland. I was ready for the 20th anniversary show, minus the one dark cloud hanging over me: I never know what to wear! I’m a bigger girl, and while I love the boldness many ravers have, I haven’t reached a place of self-acceptance where I feel comfortable enough with my body to wear shiny booty shorts and strappy crop-tops, no matter how much I love how they look on every girl to my left and right.
The idea of walking around in such a small amount of clothing always gives me flashbacks to when I was younger and boys would call me “cream puff” and ask me to school dances as a cruel joke, or make me stand up and sit down because they thought the sound the chair made when I sat down was funny. Because of incidents like those, I tend to keep everything covered up. I look at other girls, who walk around in almost nothing without worrying about what everyone is thinking, with extreme envy.
I was talking about my wardrobe dilemma with a friend of mine who advised me, “Wear whatever makes you feel good. At EDC, I saw a big girl rocking Superman pasties. That’s the great thing about these festivals: There’s nothing but love for everyone.” This intrigued me. It seemed extreme to go from a completely covered wardrobe to pasties; but the truth is, even in full clothing, I feel like my size makes me stand out, and I’m always self-conscious.
After an extensive and fruitless search for cute and affordable plus-size rave wear, I decided to take a leap of faith and wear my first set of pasties. I got them at iHeartRaves, and they were the cutest little kitty pasties I have ever seen.
I had a lot of trepidation leading up to Nocturnal Wonderland. Would people laugh at me? Would they call me names again? I changed my mind on wearing them at least twice a day. The week leading up to the event, I focused on how cute they were and tried to ignore the little voice in me that is ever-present and makes me uncomfortable with how I look, no matter how much time and effort I put into my outfits.
I decided to wear the pasties as part of a ‘90s throwback look. I wore dark purple lips, sunflower pants, and my old favorites: Doc Martins. I covered my cute little kitties a little with a see-through white top. All things considered, I probably had on more clothing than 90 percent of the attendees (guys included), but it was still the most revealing thing I had ever worn and left me feeling naked. As I was taking in all the amazing sights and sounds of the festival, I noticed something: I was not the only plus-size girl at the event. There were so many bigger girls in some amazing and revealing outfits. I wanted to go up to these beautiful girls and ask for advice on where they get their confidence from, because I was extremely self-conscious in my kitty pasties.
I was certain at some point I was going to hear guys laughing and pointing and acting like there was an earthquake when I walked by. But despite my fears, none of that happened. I feel like it’s an incredible testimony to the positive attitude of the dance community that I didn’t get a single negative comment. There weren’t any accusatory glances or anybody pointing and making cruel gestures. In fact, the only direct comment I got about them was a compliment. “OMG. Kitty pasties! I love them,” an adorable group of girls said to me. They profusely complimented me on my whole outfit and made me feel better about myself than I have in years.
I don’t know if I would ever wear pasties again, but the main thing I learned is that size doesn’t matter in the dance community. I feel like these events are the one place where anyone can be themselves and dress and act without fear of being rejected or picked on—because at the end of the day, it isn’t about how much or how little clothing you have on. It’s about enjoying the vibes, the music, and the incredible people around you.
Ashlee’s spreading the vibes on Instagram and Twitter.