Day 6: What to wear with an ostomy? What ostomy? #7daysofIBD


I’m no fashionista, but I like to look good – who doesn’t?

One of my biggest fears before my surgery was that I’d spend the rest of my life wandering around in sack-like clothes or simply become a nun.

I envisioned a future filled with sweat pants, baggy jumpers and shape-less dresses – looking like a washed-out celeb in a Pineapple tracksuit.

I also imagined a life without romance, I think I believed that I’d be better off living in a hovel somewhere than have my bowel taken away.

I’m ashamed to say that as a teen and a young woman vanity was the main reason I stubbornly refused the operation for years despite being in hideous amounts of pain.

Having the operation felt like giving up my youth – it didn’t matter that my young life so far had been marred by illness, and the operation promised me a new lease of life.

I was horrified of what it would do to my already shattered confidence and street-cred; basically as a teenager I simply couldn’t think of anything worse than having an ostomy bag.

I’d rather put up with the accidents, the blood and the constant toilet visits, than be thought of as a freak – well, more than people already thought a young girl who spent more time in a bathroom than the playground was.

I mean I wasn’t married, didn’t have kids, what would I tell people, what would they think?

The people they sent to talk to me where lovely, well and happy, but they were in their 50s and 60s and had grandchildren – I could’t relate to that.

Now I realise I needn’t have worried one bit: unless you know about it, or Winnie announces herself, you wouldn’t have a clue she was there.

It was only when I was in my mid 20s that the surgeons finally got a firm grip on me and this time I couldn’t and didn’t really want to get away/

Straight after my first surgery (well as soon as I had the energy) I went through my old clothes and packed anything that was really tight into a bag and shipped it off to a charity shop.

I needn’t have done, but I’m still glad I did.

Ironically having surgery did my wardrobe a lot of good: it made me grow up, and stop wearing outfits that honestly should have been left back in my student drinking days, or really never have seen the light of day at all.

Now

I get a lot of questions about what I wear, and how to dress with an ostomy.

My answer: wear whatever you want, what looks good, but most of all what you feel the most confident in.

You don’t want to wear something where you are constantly patting your bag, checking it, worrying that someone can see it – but you don’t want to feel like you’re wearing a smock either.

I’ve been pleasantly shocked at the array of things I can still wear. To be honest I can wear anything: I simply choose not to wear some things.

For example; I wouldn’t wear a crop top or a dress with gaps in that show my bag – I could, and good on anyone who does, I just don’t feel comfortable doing that.

I love maxi dresses and in total contrast short skirts, but I wouldn’t wear a skin tight body con dress, mostly because if my bag expands it’s too uncomfortable.

I also wouldn’t really wear something too sheer or that clingy gold material, mostly because you can see the shape of my bag through it.

On the days I feel weird from my bag (yes I do have days when I feel really self conscious about it) I distract attention from my stomach (not that anyone can see) with loud makeup, big hair and well, fabulous shoes – not that I need an excuse.

I usually have a little scarf in my handbag for if my bag fills up and I want to hide it – it’s a little handy tip I got from another blogger.

But really I can wear, and do wear, whatever I want: suits; jump suits; short dresses; pencil skits; ball gowns; see through blouses… and even shorts!

I do struggle to find a decent pair of jeans, but that’s because I need high-waist, a petite and a six, which is a hard combination to go by – if you are looking I find Next is the place to go.

I tailor what I wear to how I feel, what I’ve eaten (sometimes) and sometimes avoid eating certain things if I know I’m going to be wearing that tight dress.

I love the glamour – but some days I like my sweat pants, or PJs and baggy jumpers.

But that’s because I’m human, not because I have an ostomy.

 

Advertisements

Trying to find the right fit – getting clothes to look right with an ostomy and IBD – part 1


After a few nightmarish days of running around the Trafford Centre in search of a pencil skirt which fits a thin person with an ostomy bag and finding absolutely zilch, which lead to a full-scale breakdown, tears and wailing of ‘I’m disgusting, just look at me’, I thought I would do a series of blogs on trying to find clothes that fit and make you feel a million dollars when you have IBD and/or an ostomy bag. Let’s hope it helps to stop you spiralling into a shopping induced whirlpool of self-pity.

So here we go, over the next three days I am going to blog about my fashion dilemmas, what not to wear when your bag is on overdrive, and how to make yourself feel instantly happier, braver and more confident even when you’re about to disappear into a world of pain and misery…oh, and the biggest tip of all – avoiding white pants.

Over the years I have really struggled to find clothes that fit and look right. Years of

Work - some outfits have lasted the op - this is one

Work – some outfits have lasted the op – this is one

weight fluctuation due to Crohn’s/Colitis flare-ups and lengthy periods of hospitalisation have caused chaos in the wardrobe department, meaning I seemed to have developed two wardrobes: one for when I’m sick and the other for when I’m well – I’m sure you know which one I wear most often.

My wardrobe is divided. One side appears to be clothes that when I’m ill I wouldn’t be seen dead in for fear of either looking like a vampirish skeleton or, on the exact opposite side of the scale, looking like a beached whale. I have loose fitting clothes for the days I look like a snake that’s swallowed a hippo – you know skinny but with a bloated belly the size of a small planet – and I have hundreds of too big jumpers which can be layered up to give the pretence that I’ve not lost that disastrous amount of weight again – a trick I picked up years ago in an attempt to stop my spiralling illness upsetting my friends and relatives. I’m 99% sure this doesn’t work anymore, but I have to admit that I find comfort in wearing clothes which bulk me out when I’m looking painfully thin – oh, and it does help to keep me warm.

As a self-conscious woman suffering from IBD wrecks total havoc on my daily getting ready ritual. Even something as simple as getting dressed for work can result in a room strewn with clothes and a total meltdown. Some days even silk hurts my swollen belly. Kicker lines dig painfully into my hips, bra clasps rub sores into my bony spine, and dresses pull uncomfortably as my stomach spasms underneath the material. I’ve had days where nothing fits right, where everything causes discomfort, or in some weird magic trick the clothes that fitted perfectly just days before are transformed into giant’s clothes. Some days my room ends up looking like a Very catalogue has exploded all over it, with clothes strewn everywhere. On days like that I’ve considered going to work in my PJs, or even naked – I’m sure that would raise a few eyebrows in court.

Summer dress - teamed with tights = winter winner

Summer dress – teamed with tights = winter winner

In previous posts I’ve talked about how I expected to feel unattractive following my surgery; how I expected to not want to wear anything but trackies for the rest of my life. When I first took off my baggy joggers and pjs after months of recovery I vowed never to go back to them again. Ok, so I haven’t stuck to that. As I write this I have to admit I’m wearing my team GB joggers teamed with a far too big jumper. Yes, I look dreadful. Yes, i wouldn’t go out like this (well I would just to get some sweets or a snack) but I’m comfortable and that’s what joggers are made for, pigging out days and poorly days. I don’t feel guilty about wearing them occasionally but since my surgery I have realised the value of dressing to make yourself feel good, look good and to increase confidence. I’ve realised that when I’m wearing my trackies I don’t feel womanly or attractive, that even when I’m feeling ill, bloated or tired, putting on a nice dress, doing my makeup and hair and pulling on a pair of heels instantly makes me feel better, even if inside I’m crying.

Post surgery has presented me with a whole new world of problems in the fashion department. The best thing I ever did was to bite the bullet and through out all my ‘I will never wear you again’ outfits which would have been a daily reminder in my wardrobe of the figure I once had prior to the arrival of Winnie (the stoma) and my un-scarred stomach. I thought that I would miss those clothes; the figure hugging body con dresses I used to dance the night away in, the bikinis and extremely uncomfortable jeans – I don’t miss them one bit.

At first I stubbornly tried to dress the same way I used to. It worked for a while as I’d lost so much weight the added width of my ostomy bag on my waist line didn’t make a dint on my waistband, but once my muscles and weight started to return I learnt the hard way that the well-worn skinny jeans were no longer an option now that I had my new best friend. Those were my favourite jeans. They were cheap but comfortable and fitted me like a glove, so I carried on stubbornly wearing them, despite the fact they were crushing Winnie to death. I finally threw them away after a few very unfortunate incidents on long car journeys, where, the lesson was learned that a tight waist band resting on an overactive ostomy = explosion. Those jeans were not made for sitting down.

More tomorrow…in the meantime if you have any fashion tips please get in touch and share them….you could help someone (me included) feel more confident.