Quotes About Self-image

I deal with body dysmorphia a lot, so it's always a process to see and hear myself on camera. I have to be in the right mental mode to not be hyper-critical of myself.

I was a floor model at I. Magnin. I'm 5 feet 7, but my legs weren't long enough to be a big-time model. From the knees up, everything is long, but from ankle to knee, if I was in proportion, I'd be 5 feet 9.

Anorexia was there for me before I got into modeling, but because of the arena and the demands, the disease really got out of control for me. It's like being an alcoholic and going and being a bartender.

And anyway, modeling wasn't for me. I'm too short. I've got a big butt. It wasn't going to happen.

I'm a size 4. In modeling, that's often too big.

With modelling, there's nothing to work on other than losing weight. I definitely had an eating disorder.

I really don't think I ever thought I could be a model. I was shorter than all of the models around and certainly rounder than anybody that I had ever seen in a magazine.

Every agency would mention my hips. I remember looking at the other models and thinking, 'I do not look like these girls.'

I don't look in the mirror; don't like what I see; never have. I am not my idea of a beauty. Never was. This is not false modesty. I've just never been enamoured of my face, which of course is magnified umpteen times on screen.

I think it is rather 'unsexy' to go under the knife and modify your appearance.

Growing up, I fluctuated between wanting to modify my looks and embracing them.

So while most people dealt with the scale every Monday at the Berea training facility nervous about how high the number was going to be, I was the one that was nervous about how low the number was going to be.

I love curvy women. Maybe because I'm not. I would love to be a Marilyn Monroe, but I'm very far away from that... So I love very curvy girls.

When I walk into a video arcade filled with 16- or 17-year-old boys, I may as well be Marilyn Monroe.

I don't see myself as the Hunk of the Month.

I had Botox and I hated it. For four long months, I looked like a different person.

I always thought I had a face like the moon, because I had really chubby cheeks when I was a kid, right up until my mid-20s. My face changed in my later 20s and again in my mid-30s.

I am begining to look more and more like my miserable imitators.

I'm happy to be thought of as cool, but I never was cool. Everyone thought I was this complete moron and complete dork for the majority of my school years.

I hate what I look like on TV, and I want to look better, and nothing makes the mothers more jealous.

Kids don't want to dye their whole head another color; that's what their mothers do.

Perhaps you like to torture yourself by trying on some jeans from a few years ago to see if you can button them. Clothes do not exist to humiliate their owners. Please do not force garments into performing psychological tasks for which they were not designed.

If there was one thing that rankled about being a woman, it was this conviction, drummed into your head before you had a chance to defend yourself, that it was your job - your obligation- to always look your best, even in situations when you had no logical reason to care.

You looked at them and wondered why they were so ugly; you looked closely and could not find the source. Then you realized that it came from conviction, their conviction. It was as though some mysterious all-knowing master had given each one a cloak of ugliness to wear, and they had each accepted it without question.