Rethinking Style in a Changing Body
Most people dress for the occasion. I dress for damage control.
To manage bloating. To manage sweat. To manage hot flushes. To minimise toxins. To get through the day without my body humiliating me in public.
That morning ritual of getting dressed — the one that used to be one of the best parts of my day — is now a negotiation.
Two years ago, on an ordinary autumn morning, everything changed.
I was on my way to a conference. Less than two hours after showering, I was drenched in sweat. The smell was hideous. I ducked into a shop and spent money I didn't have on a merino knit, praying it would get me through the afternoon.
It didn't. An hour later, same thing..
That morning was the beginning of a two-year journey through hyperhidrosis, perimenopause, SIBO, fibroids, and thyroid issues. Looking back, there had been signs — days that felt sweatier, stinkier, heavier, stranger — but they'd go in waves. This felt different. This felt permanent.
What followed was a blur of medical appointments, inconclusive results, and a slow, painful withdrawal from the work I loved. But alongside the physical — the sweating, the pain, the bloating, the hormonal chaos — and the mental toll of not knowing what was happening to my own body, something else was quietly shifting too.
My relationship with style was changing. And I had no idea yet that it would become one of the most unexpected parts of my recovery.
Style, disrupted
As someone who built a business around personal style and conscious wardrobes, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. The clothes I once loved no longer worked for my body. Silhouettes, fabrics, and structures that once felt expressive began to feel restrictive, impractical — even unwearable.
Slowly, my wardrobe shifted. Denim jeans gave way to skirts. Structured pieces were replaced with soft draping. Elastic waistbands became essential. Breathability became non-negotiable. Black became a uniform — not for aesthetic preference, but for practicality and comfort. I could only rely on one pair of shoes, and every outfit had to be built around them.
Creativity took a back seat. I wasn't curating outfits anymore. I was engineering a wardrobe that kept me functional.
The gap in the style conversation
What became clear through this experience is that the fashion and styling industry rarely accounts for bodies in flux. We talk about style in aspirational terms — self-expression, identity, aesthetic. Far less do we talk about functionality, or the very real intersection of health and clothing.
And yet so many people are living this reality. Whether it's perimenopause, hyperhidrosis, gut issues or other health conditions — our bodies change. Sometimes gradually, sometimes overnight. And when they do, our wardrobes often fail us.
The medical system also fails us. When I would inquire about my issues, even as young as 30, I’d be told to have a third shower a day. Use stronger deoderant. I was never told it could be my hormones, or my gut. No one, ever told me to consider my toxin load either. Maybe swap polyester for cotton and see how that goes? As I look back now, the shame that leaves you with is destructive and maybe why my nervous system is so broken now. But packing on the high strength ani-perspirant throughout my 40s did help to balancee out the underarm sweat and it was a time I reclaimed my style. Until, that day two or so years ago.
From personal style to functional style
At first, I genuinely grieved my style. I loved my high waisted jeans and floaty blouses - they were my signature style. But bloated days would shrink them and other days anything just even resting on my waist would give me nausea., The initial transition was hard. But what emerged wasn't a loss — it was a redefinition.
I began to see style not just as visual, but as functional, responsive, and adaptive. Dressing became less about how something looked and more about how it supported me — breathability, flexibility, room to fluctuate. And maybe that wasn't giving up on style at all. Maybe it was redefining it.
Because true personal style isn't static. It evolves with our lives, our values, and — critically — our bodies. While the fashion world started to feel like an exclusive club I no longer had access to, I was discovering slow fashion brands making with natural fibres, the quiet power of a smaller capsule wardrobe, and far less temptation to buy things I didn't need.
And I won't lie — learning what it actually feels like to be comfortable in your clothes, not fighting fabrics and buttons all day, is a genuine game changer.
Sustainability in practice, not perfection
Throughout all of this, I held onto my commitment to sustainability. Not perfectly — but consciously.
I didn't overhaul my wardrobe or start from scratch. I adapted. I reworked what I had. I made thoughtful additions where needed and prioritised natural fibres, versatility, and longevity. Because here's an important nuance that often gets missed in sustainable fashion conversations: sustainability has to meet us where we are. When your body is in distress, perfection is not the goal. Support is. And we shouldn't feel guilty for needing new pieces to get there. I allowed myself to buy new, but it had to tick so many boxes and versatility was everything.
Reclaiming style — on new terms
There were moments during this period where I felt like a fraud in my own business. How could I talk about style when I was rotating the same few outfits, prioritising comfort over creativity?
But here's what reflection has taught me: this experience didn't diminish my work — it deepened it.
Style isn't about having endless options or perfectly curated outfits. It's about feeling supported, seen, and like yourself in what you wear — especially when your body feels unfamiliar. Getting dressed is not just a creative act. It's a daily negotiation between who we are, how we feel, and what we need. Somedays, I literally just throw on pieces, because the mental struggle is too much, pther days, I find myself excited to put together the outfit that supports everything from my health to my unique style.
Life, disrupted
There have been moments I wanted to disappear from sheer embarrassment. Where is that odour even coming from today? Days lost to excruciating period pain. A kind of hibernation that crept in without me fully realising it. I've watched opportunities pass by — career moments, business possibilities, friendships and connections — while my mind was consumed with simply getting through the day.
Did you know? Studies show that over 25% of women experiencing perimenopausal symptoms have considered leaving work entirely, and almost 50% have had to change how they work — reducing hours, stepping back from responsibilities, or turning down promotions. The financial burden is real. While loosing income due to reduced working hours, my health costs over the past two years have exceeded $25,000.
Where I am now
I'm writing this ten weeks post-hysterectomy (those pesky fibroids and debilitating periods!) but the recovery feels good. I’m now in the early stages of SIBO and gut dysbosis treatment for the fourth time (everyone before this has backfired). I once felt like peri stole my life, but now I’m feeling like my gut issues stole it! Or, is it my thyroid? Whatever it is, this has really kept me hibernated, my diet is limited - which means rarely socialising or going out. I have a long journey ahead.
But my connection to my work has reignited with more clarity than I've had in a long time. And I can do it remotely until I feel confident to get back to in-person and I’m thankful for that.
Because I know my experience isn't isolated. And I know that the pressure to feel constantly put together, constantly creative and on-trend, can quietly erode our confidence and our sense of self.
An invitation
If your body has changed and your wardrobe no longer feels like it fits your life — you're not alone. And you're not doing style wrong.
You're navigating something the industry has not yet fully acknowledged. And that's exactly the work I'm now deeply committed to: supporting people to build wardrobes that honour both their values and their reality. From the pieces we can choose, to minimising toxins in clothes.
Because you deserve to feel like yourself in your clothes — even when your body is asking for something different.
Keen to earn more? Book in for a Style Strategy Session or just contact me for a chat.