The Princess Who Stood On Her Own Two Feet

by Jeanne Desy

A long time ago in a kingdom by the sea there lived a Princess tall and bright as a sunflower. Whatever the royal tutors taught her, she mastered with ease.

She could tally the royal treasure on her gold and silver abacus, and charm even the Wizard with her enchantments. In short, she had every gift but love, for in all the kingdom there was no suitable match for her.

So she played the zither and designed great tapestries and trained her finches to eat from her hand, for she had a way with animals.

Yet she was bored and lonely, as princesses often are, being a breed apart. Seeing her situation, the Wizard came to see her one day, a strange and elegant creature trotting along at his heels. The Princess clapped her hands in delight, for she loved anything odd.

"What is it?" she cried. The Wizard grimaced.

"Who knows?" he said. "It's supposed to be something enchanted. I got it through the mail."

The Royal Wizard looked a little shamefaced. It was not the first time he had been taken in by mail-order promises.

"It won't turn into anything else," he explained. "It just is what it is."

"But what is it?"

"They call it a dog," the Wizard said. "An Afghan hound."

Since in this kingdom dogs had never been seen, the Princess was quite delighted. When she brushed the silky, golden dog, she secretly thought it looked rather like her, with its thin aristocratic features and delicate nose. Actually, the Wizard had thought so too, but you can never be sure what a Princess will take as an insult.

In any case, the Princess and the dog became constant companions. It followed her on her morning rides and slept at the foot of her bed every night. When she talked, it watched her so attentively that she often thought it understood.

Still, a dog is a dog and not a Prince, and the Princess longed to marry. Often she sat at her window in the high tower, her embroidery idle in her aristocratic hands, and gazed down the road, dreaming of a handsome prince in flashing armor.

One summer day word came that the Prince of a neighboring kingdom wished to discuss an alliance. The royal maids confided that he was dashing and princely, and the Princess's heart leaped with joy. Eagerly she awaited the betrothal feast.

When the Prince entered the great banquet hall and cast his dark, romantic gaze upon her, the Princess nearly swooned in her chair. She sat shyly while everyone toasted the Prince and the golden Princess and peace forever between the two kingdoms. The dog watched quietly from its accustomed place at her feet.

After many leisurely courses, the great feast ended, and the troubadors began to play. The Prince and Princess listened to the lyrical songs honoring their love, and she let him hold her hand under the table - an act noted with triumphant approval by the King and Queen. The Princess was filled with happiness that such a man would love her.

At last the troubadors swung into a waltz, and it was time for the Prince and Princess to lead the dance. Her heart bursting with joy, the Princess rose to take his arm. But as she rose to her feet, a great shadow darkened the Prince's face, and he stared at her as if stricken.

"What is it?" she cried. But the Prince would not speak, and dashed from the hall.

For a long time the Princess studied her mirror that night, wondering ,what the Prince had seen.

"If you could talk," she said to the dog, "you could tell me, I know it," for the animal's eyes were bright and intelligent.
"What did I do wrong?"

The dog, in fact, could talk; it's just that nobody had ever asked him anything before.

"You didn't do anything," he said. "It's your height."

"My height?"

The Princess was more astonished by what the dog said than the fact that he said it. As an amateur wizard, she had heard of talking animals.

"But I am a Princess!" she wailed. "I'm supposed to be tall." For in her kingdom, all the royal family was tall, and the Princess the tallest of all, and she had thought that was the way things were supposed to be.

The dog privately marveled at her naivete, and explained that in the world outside this kingdom, men liked to be taller than their wives.

"But why?" asked the Princess.

The dog struggled to explain. "They think if they re not, they can't...train falcons as well. Or something."

Now that he thought for a moment, he didn't know either.

It's my legs," she muttered. "When we were sitting down everything was fine. It's these darn long legs."

The dog cocked his head he thought she had nice legs, and he was in a position to know. The Princess strode to the bell-pull and summoned the Wizard.

"Okay," she said when he arrived. "I know the truth."

"Who told you?" the Wizard asked. Somebody was in stay in irons.

"The dog."

The Wizard sighed. In fact, he had known the creature was enchanted.

"It's my height." she continued bitterly.

The Wizard nodded.

"I want you to make me shorter." she said. "A foot shorter, at least. Now."

Using all his persuasive powers, which were considerable, the Wizard explained to her that he could not possibly do that.

"Fatter," he said "yes. Thinner, yes. Turn you into a raven, maybe. But shorter, no. I cannot make you even an inch shorter, my dear."

The Princess was inconsolable. Seeing her sorrow, the King sent his emissary to the neighboring kingdom with some very attractive offers. Finally the neighboring King and Queen agreed to persuade the Prince to give the match another chance.

The Queen spoke to him grandly of chivalry and honor, and the King spoke to him privately of certain gambling debts.

In due course he arrived at the castle, where the Princess had taken to her canopied bed. They had a lovely romantic talk, with him bedside holding her hand, and the nobility, of course, standing respectfully at the foot of the bed, as such things are done.

In truth, the Princess quite lovely when she was sitting or lying down.

"Come on," he said, "let's get some fresh air. We'll go riding." He had in mind a certain dragon in these parts, against whom he might display his talents. And so the Prince strode and the Princess slouched to the stables.

On a horse, as in a chair, the Princess was no taller than he, so they cantered along happily. Seeing an attractive hedge ahead, the Prince urged his mount into a gallop and sailed the hedge proudly.

He turned to see her appreciation, only to find the Princess doing the same and holding her seat quite gracefully. Truthfully, he felt like leaving again.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you," he said coldly, "that ladies ride sidesaddle?"

Well, of course they had, but the Princess always thought that was a silly, unbalanced position that took all the fun out of riding.

Now she apologized prettily and swung her legs around. At length the Prince hurdled another fence, even more dashingly than before, and turned to see the Princess attempting to do the same thing. But riding sidesaddle, she did not have a sure seat, and tumbled to the ground.

"Girls shouldn't jump," the Prince told the air, as he helped her up.

But on her feet, she was again a head taller than he. She saw the dim displeasure in his eyes. Then with truly royal impulsiveness she made a decision to sacrifice for love. She crumpled to the ground.

"My legs," she said, "I can't stand." The Prince swelled with pride, picked her up, and carried her back to the castle.

There the Royal Physician, the Wizard, and even the Witch examined her legs, with the nobility in attendance. She was given infusions and teas and herbs and packs, but nothing worked. She simply could not stand.

"When there is nothing wrong but foolishness," the Witch muttered, ",you can't fix it."
And she left. She had no patience with lovesickness.

The prince lingered on day after day, as a guest of the King, while the Princess grew well and happy, although she did not stand. Carried to the window seat, she would sit happily and watch him stride around the room, describing his chivalric exploits, and she would sigh with contentment. The loss of the use of her legs seemed a small price to pay for such a man.
The dog observed her without comment.

Since she was often idle now, the Princess practised witty and amusing sayings. She meant only to please the Prince, but he turned on her after one particularly subtle and clever remark and said sharply "Haven't you ever heard that women should be seen and not heard?"

The Princess sank into thought. She didn't quite understand the saying, but she sensed that it was somehow like her tallness. For just as he preferred her sitting, not standing, he seemed more pleased when she listened, and more remote when she talked.

The next day when the Prince came to her chambers he found the royal entourage gathered around her bed. "What's the matter?" he asked. They told him the Princess could not speak, not for herbs or infusions or magic spells. And the Prince sat by the bed and held her hand and spoke to her gently, and she was given a slate to write her desires. All went well for several days. But the Prince was not a great reader, so she put the slate aside, and made conversation with only her eyes and her smile.

The Prince told her daily how lovely she was, and then he occupied himself with princely pastimes. Much of the time her only companion was the dog.

One morning the Prince came to see her before he went hunting. His eyes fixed with disgust on the dog, who lay comfortably over her feet.

"Really," the Prince said, "sometimes you surprise me."

He went to strike the dog from the bed, but the Princess stayed his hand. He looked at her in amazement. That night the Princess lay sleepless in the moonlight, and at last, hearing the castle fall silent, and knowing that nobody would catch her talking, she whispered to the dog. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"You'd better get used to the idea," said the dog. "The Prince doesn't like me."

"He will never take you away." The Princess hugged the dog fiercely. The dog looked at her skeptically and gave a little doggy cough.

"He took everything else away," he said.

"No," she said. "I did that. I made myself...someone he could love."

"I love you, too," the dog said.

"Of course you do." She scratched his ears.

"And," said the dog, "I loved you then."

The Princess lay a long time thinking before she finally slept.

The next morning the Prince strode in more handsome and dashing than ever, although oddly enough, the Princess could have sworn he was getting shorter.

As he leaned down to kiss her, his smile disappeared. She frowned a question at him: What's the matter?
"You've still got that thing," he said, pointing to the dog. The Princess grabbed her slate.

"He is all I have," she wrote hastily. The lady-in-waiting read it to the Prince.

"You have me," the prince said, his chin high, "I believe you love that smelly thing more than you love me."

He strode (he never walked any other way) to the door.

"I was going to talk to you about the wedding feast," he said, as he left. "But now, never mind!"

The Princess wept softly and copiously, and the dog licked a tear from her trembling hand.

"What does he want?" she asked the dog.

"Roast dog for the wedding feast, I'd imagine," he said. The Princess cried out in horror.

"Oh, not literally," the dog said. "But it follows." And he would say no more. At last the Princess called the Wizard and wrote on her slate what the dog had said.

The Wizard sighed. How awkward. Talking animals were always so frank. He hemmed and hawed until the Princess glared to remind him that Wizards are paid by royalty to advise and interpret - not to sigh.

"All right," he said at last. Things always come in threes. Everything."

The Princess looked at him blankly.

"Wishes always come in threes," the Wizard said. "And sacrifices, too. So far, you've given up walking. You've given up speech. One more to go."

"Why does he want me to give up the dog?" she wrote.

The Wizard looked sorrowfully at her from under his bushy brows. "Because you love it," he said.

"But that takes nothing from him!" she scribbled. The Wizard smiled, thinking that the same thing could be said of her height and her speech.

"If you could convince him of that, my dear," he said, "you would be more skilled in magic than I."

When he was gone, the Princess reached for her cards and cast her own fortune, muttering to herself. The dog watched bright-eyed as the wands of growth were covered by the swords of discord. When the ace of swords fell, the Princess gasped. The dog put a delicate paw on the card.

"You poor dumb thing," she said, for it is hard to think of a dog any other way, whether it talks or not. "You don't understand. That is death on a horse. Death to my love."

"His banner is the white rose," said the dog, looking at the card intently. "He is also rebirth." They heard the Prince's striding step outside the door.

"Quick," the Princess said. "Under the bed." The dog's large brown eyes spoke volumes, but he flattened and slid under the bed. And the Prince's visit was surprisingly jolly.

After some time the Prince looked around with imitation surprise. "Something's missing," he said. "I know. It's that creature of yours. You know, I think I was allergic to it. I feel much better now that it's gone."

He thumped his chest to show how dear it was. The Princess grabbed her slate, wrote furiously, and thrust it at the Royal Physician. "He loved me," the Royal Physician read aloud.

"Not as I love you," the Prince said earnestly. The Princess gestured impatiently for the reading to continue.

"That's not all she wrote," the Royal Physician said. It says, ,"The dog loved me then."

When everyone was gone, the dog crept out to find the Princess installed at her window seat thinking furiously.

"If I am to keep you," she said to him, "we shall have to disenchant you with the spells book."

The dog smiled, or seemed to. She cast dice, she drew pentagrams, she crossed rowan twigs and chanted every incantation in the index. Nothing worked. The dog was still a dog, silken, elegant, and seeming to grin in the heat. Finally the Princess clapped shut the last book and sank back.

"Nothing works," she said. "I don't know what we shall do. Meanwhile, when you hear anyone corning, hide in the cupboard or beneath the bed."

"You're putting off the inevitable," the dog told her sadly.

"I'll think of something," she said. But she couldn't.

At last it was the eve of her wedding day. While the rest of the castle buzzed with excitement, the Princess sat mute in her despair. "I can't give you up and I can't take you!" she wailed. And the dog saw that she was feeling grave pain.

"Sometimes," the dog said, looking beyond her shoulder, "sometimes one must give up everything for love."

The Princess's lip trembled and she looked away.

"What will I do?" she cried again. The dog did not answer. She turned toward him and then fell to her knees in shock, for the dog lay motionless on the floor. For hours she sat weeping at his side, holding his lifeless paw.

At last she went to her cupboard and took out her wedding dress, which was of the softest whitest velvet. She wrapped the dog in its folds and picked him up gently.

Through the halls of the castle the Princess walked, and the nobility and chambermaids and royal bishops stopped in their busy preparations to watch her, for the Princess had not walked now for many months.

To their astonished faces she said, "I am going to bury the one who really loved me."

On the steps of the castle she met the Prince, who was just dismounting and calling out jovial hearty things to his companions. So surprised was he to see her walking that he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. She paused briefly to look down at him, held the dog closer to her body, and walked on.

The Prince got up and went after her.
"What's going on here?" he asked. "What are you doing? Isn't that your wedding dress?"

She turned so he could see the dog's head where it nestled in her left arm.

"I thought you got rid of that thing weeks ago," the Prince said. It was difficult for him to find an emotion suitable to this complex situation. He tried feeling hurt.

?What you call ,,this thing", the Princess said, "died to spare me pain. And I intend to bury him with honor." The Prince only half-heard her, for he was struck by another realization.

"You're talking!"

"Yes." She smiled.

Looking down at him, she said, "I?m talking. The better to tell you good-bye. So good-bye." And off she went. She could stride too, when she wanted to.

"Well, my dear," the Queen said that night, when the Princess appeared in the throne room. "You've made a proper mess of things. We have alliances to think of. I?m sure you're aware of the very complex negotiations you have quite ruined. Your duty as a Princess..."

"It is not necessarily my duty to sacrifice everything," the Princess interrupted. "And I have other duties: a Princess says what she thinks. A Princess stands on her own two feet. A Princess stands tall. And she does not betray those who love her."

Her royal parents did not reply. But they seemed to ponder her words.

The Princess lay awake that night for many hours. She was tired from the day's exertions, for she let no other hand dig the dog's grave or fill it but she could not sleep without slippers and stole through the silent castle out of the gravesite. There she mused upon love, and what she had given for love, and what the dog had given.

"How foolish we are," she said aloud. "For a stupid Prince I let my wise companion die."

At last the Princess dried her tears on her hem and stirred herself to examine white rose she had planted on the dog's grave. She watered it again with her little silver watering can It looked as though it would live.

As she slipped to the castle through the ornamental gardens, she heard a quiet jingling near the gate. On the, bridge there was silhouetted a horseman. The delicate silver bridles of his horse sparkled in the moonlight. She could see by his crested shield that he must be nobility, perhaps a Prince. Well, there was many an empty room in the castle tonight, with the wedding feast canceled and all the guests gone home.

She approached the rider.

He was quite an attractive fellow, thin with silky golden hair. She smiled up at him, admiring his lean and elegant hand on the reins.

"Where have you come from?" she asked.

He looked puzzled. "Truthfully," he replied. "I can't remember. I know I have traveled a long dark road, but that is all I know." He gave an odd little cough.

The Princess looked past him, where the road was bright in the moonlight.

"I see," she said slowly. "And what is your banner?" For she could not quite decipher it waving above him. He moved it down. A white rose on a black background.

"Death," she breathed.

"No, no." he said, smiling. "Rebirth. And for that, a death is sometimes necessary."

He dismounted and bent to kiss the Princess?s hand. She breathed a tiny prayer as he straightened up, but it was not answered. Indeed, he was several inches shorter than she was. The Princess straightened her spine.

"It is a pleasure to look up to a proud and beautiful lady," the young Prince said, and his large brown eyes spoke volumes.

The Princess blushed.

"We're still holding hands," she said foolishly. The elegant Prince smiled, and kept hold of her hand, and they went toward the castle.

In the shadows the Wizard watched them benignly until they were out of sight. Then he turned to the fluffy black cat at his feet.

"Well, Mirabelle," he said. "One never knows the ways of enchantments."

The cat left off from licking one shoulder for a moment and regarded him, but said nothing. Mirabelle never had been much of a conversationalist.

"Ah, well." the Wizard said. "I gather from all this - I shall make a note - that sometimes one must sacrifice for love."

Mirabelle looked intently at the Wizard. "On the other hand," the cat said at last - "sometimes one must refuse to sacrifice."

"Worth saying." said the Wizard approvingly, "and true. True" And then, because he had a weakness for talking animals, he took Mirabelle home for an extra dish of cream.

Clothes that don't fit and beds that aren't long enough - it's not all easy

Mark Mason

Why don't tall people get the same sympathy as short people? Everyone feels sorry for minnows, cutting them slack when they talk loudly in meetings or get themselves elected Speaker of the House of Commons. But tall people are seen as life's victors; the ones you want to be, the ones who get everything their own way. It just isn't the case.

I'm not actually that tall — 6ft 1in — but even I encounter problems. Cashpoints are too low, hotel beds are too short, train seats don't have enough leg room. In the days of phone boxes, I spent every call hunched over (not enough lead). I regularly have to bend at the knees to use mirrors, and am sometimes forced to take showers kneeling down, because the head hasn't been fixed high enough up the wall. What's that you say? Have a bath instead? I would — if that wasn't too short as well. It's a choice between sitting bolt upright or resting my feet against the tiles somewhere near the ceiling.

And if I'm struggling, what's it like for the 6ft 4-and-above brigade? The other day I used a walkway in the Barbican where I only had three inches clearance — anyone that much taller than me would have had to stoop. I know, the whole Barbican is a design-free zone, but it's far from the only place. Much of modern Britain is structurally tallist.

It was only when talking to a friend who's 6ft 6 that I realised just how troublesome clothing can be. All I've ever had to do is buy shirts with extra-long sleeves, but Rob has an extra problem with casual shirts. 'They all expose my navel when I stretch. And not in a winsome, sexy way.' Trousers are a nightmare. My inside leg is 34 inches, Rob's is 36, and apparently those extra two inches make all the difference. 'They dramatically limit your options,' he says. 'I can buy suits from T.M. Lewin and jeans from Gap — and that's it.' Rob once walked into a tailor's on Jermyn Street and asked if they had anything to fit him. 'The bloke held up a tie.'

It's even worse for women. 'There's a shop called Long Tall Sally that every tall woman goes to once,' says my friend Emma (6ft). 'You're desperately hoping you'll find a pair of trousers that go all the way down to your shoes. The customers lurk between the rails of polyester stretch, taking furtive glances at each other, all thinking: "Well at least I'm not that tall."' Emma's amazed at people's attitudes when they meet her. 'They think it's perfectly fine to say, "God you're tall, do you find it difficult to get shoes?" Imagine if I said to a fat stranger, "Do you find it difficult to get clothes?"'

Then there's the matter of relationships. How often do you see a woman with a man shorter than her? There's the odd exception — the ex-Mrs Bernie Ecclestone, for instance — but for whatever reason it seems to be a no-no. Germaine Greer (6ft) says she never learned to dance backwards because she always had to take the male role. Some tall women (and indeed men) hunch their shoulders in an attempt to hide their height. The habit never goes away, no matter how successful you become.

Tall poppy syndrome, of course, that's what they call it. Rosamund Beattie (6ft 4), a member of the Tall Persons Club — not a joke, they really do find life difficult — says it's like being famous but without the money. The club's website relates that tall children are 'disproportionately likely to be bullied at school, something that most adults do not appreciate. The tall child has to be the aggressor, right? Wrong.'

There can also be health problems. Louise Ross (6ft 3, another TPC member), has had 'dodgy knees since I was ten'. Her loose ligaments have necessitated 12 operations. OK, such troubles will only be common for out-liers like her. But even if the 'averagely tall' like me don't suffer health issues, we do encounter regular irritations. The glass shelves that stand above bars in many pubs — I can only order my round by squatting slightly. Someone my height could never work behind that bar: they'd be in agony after the first shift.

Yes, I know all this is going to sound rich to someone of below average height. 'I'll swap places with you,' they'll be saying. Fair enough. On balance I'd rather be 6ft 1 than 5ft 5. But it's still true that, as so often, a supposedly desirable outcome in life is slightly less desirable than you might think. Before you look at a tall person and say you wish you were them, walk a mile in their shoes. Assuming they've been able to find any.

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A mundane coincidence turns into a mild obsession with the uniquely tragic life of a 7'7" Indiana woman who died a folk hero.

In 1976, in Shelbyville, Ind., a city of about 20,000 southeast of Indianapolis, a film premiere was held. The picture was Fellini's Casanova. A highly conceptual Italian art house flick about sexual deviance was not what this audience was used to; the house, nonetheless, was packed. A local was in it, a 21-year-old everyone knew about but whom few knew well. She now sat nervously waiting for it to start, concerned about what her neighbors were going to think of it, of her.

"For his giant work, he even imported a giantess from America," one news article about the picture had read, a find that had ended director Federico Fellini's, "worldwide search for an amazon."

She was credited: "Sandra E. Allen – Giantess."

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The Short Guy's Guide to Dating Tall Women

by Erica Rivera Jan 3rd, 2020

Dating as a short guy is rough. We get it. Online dating sites and apps haven't helped, as many allow users to outright eliminate you from their search based on height. But that doesn't mean your dating life has to come up short. Not only are there women out there who are totally open to dating guys of all sizes, but there are also ways you can present your best self (all 5 feet, 2 inches of you) that'll make your date overlook your, um, shortcomings. Commit these dating hacks to memory and your prospects will start looking up.

Stop whining.

We know you're at a disadvantage in the dating world because of your height, but moaning about it isn't going to help. The pity party stops now. You can't change your height, but you can change your attitude about it, and until you do, none of the subsequent dating hacks will work.

Don't talk yourself out of it.

You can't tell what women are attracted to just by looking at them. Even if the one you want has a foot on you and has expressed a preference for tall guys doesn't mean you're out of the game. You just might be the one who changes her mind about short guys forever. But you won't know until you try.

Don't pretend to be something you're not.

Lying is not cool, especially since height is a pretty hard thing to hide. You can fudge the numbers up to an inch online, but no further. You can wear shoes with thick soles. You can develop exquisite posture. What you can't (or at least, shouldn't) do is pretend to be something you're not. You're short and she knows it. No amount of smoke and mirrors will disguise that. Accept it and carry on.

Make the most out of what you have.

You can't make yourself taller, but you can bulk up. Muscle mass shows that you value your appearance, that you take care of your body, and makes you look more masculine. (Hey, we didn't make the gender stereotypes, but we acknowledge they exist.) For many women, even the tall ones, a show of strength will outweigh your short stature.

Dress for success.

Clothing plays a huge part in the impression people form of you. A well-dressed man of any size is more likely to get a second glance than a slob is. If you're inept when it comes to fashion, scour men's fashion magazines or hire a personal shopper to learn what cuts, colors, and fabrics highlight your assets. When your date sees you for the first time, your sharp sense of style will make her proud to be your arm candy.

Be confident.

Height may be a turn-on for some, but confidence is sexy no matter who you are. Don't cower. Be bold. Standing tall is a state of mind. If you believe you deserve that tall woman, she's more likely to believe you do, too.

Go for the laughs.

So you don't check off that "tall" box on her ideal man list. No matter. Check off some other boxes, like "funny." People remember how they felt around a date more than how their date looked, so leave that tall lady breathless with belly laughs and your height will seem like an insignificant afterthought.

Bust a move.

No, a tall woman can't cradle her head in that nook between your chin and your shoulder (at least not when you're upright) but you can still lead like a big man on the dance floor. Learn some steps and make her heart race one song at a time. It's not about what you have, but how you use it!  

Compensate with cash.

No woman has ever complained that a man spent too much money on their date. If it's within your means, make the date an affair to remember by pulling out all the stops. Hey, sometimes you have to invest in a relationship to reap the dividends. If being short is limiting your prospects, especially with tall women, spoil the dates you do have and make yourself the most valuable man she's ever met.

Remember your idols.

If you're vertically challenged, it helps to remember you're not alone -- and that your height doesn't determine your potential. Here's a short list of charismatic celebrities under six feet: Prince (5'2"), Kevin Hart (5'4"), Bruno Mars (5'5"), Aziz Ansari (5'6"), Tom Cruise (5'7"),  Mark Wahlberg (5'8"), Robert Downey Jr. (5'9"), George Clooney (5'10"), and Brad Pitt (5'11"). We bet none of them would have any trouble scoring a date, even with a tall woman. (Except Prince. He's dead.)

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February 13, 2017 5:37 PM by Julia Felsenthal

I recently took a photo of my sister and me in a dressing room mirror. We’re trying on matching purple turtlenecks. She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s humoring me, her lips set tightly in a half-smile. I’m gazing at the screen on my phone, intently composing the shot.

Our jeans are similar, and so is our hair, almost the same color and length. But I tower over her. Her head barely clears my shoulder, and my hip aligns with her chest. She could pull her sleeves over her hands; mine, like the sleeves of all my sweaters, end mid-forearm exposing inches of naked wrist.

If you glanced at this photo out of the corner of your eye, you would be forgiven for thinking that I’m an adult and she’s a child, or I’m a man and she’s a woman, or maybe even that we belong to two different species entirely.

My sister is three years older than I am, and seven inches shorter. She is slim and narrow and small, with delicate wrists and ankles. She is also thoughtful, cautious, responsible, the quiet eye of the storm. I am the storm: erratic, moody, restless, and attention seeking. I am six feet tall; broad shouldered; wide hipped; a sprawling, messy human being. I look like I could eat her for breakfast.

I am louder, but I am the younger sister, the follower. I followed my sister through high school, inherited her extracurriculars, her favorite teachers, followed her to college, into her freshman dorm, her choice of major, to New York—the same block, even—and her world of magazines. My mother once told me she thought my life had only become complicated the day my sister decided to have children and went someplace where I wasn’t sure I wanted to go.

A younger sister is not accustomed to breaking ground. When I got my period and couldn’t figure out how to insert a tampon, my sister did it for me. She taught me how to shave my armpits and legs. In my nascent adulthood, I often went over to the apartment she shared with her not-yet-husband to take a bath, and, like a jerk, consistently left my dirty towel crumpled somewhere on the floor. Once, a decade ago, during a panicked time when I couldn’t face anything, least of all my bills, she came over to my tiny studio, sat on my bed, and calmly opened months of mail for me.

I am younger, but I am the bigger sister. That fact has caused each of us consternation at different points in our lives.If you look at photos of us in early childhood, there are endless shots in matching outfits, my sister serious and rangy, me a stout little grinning gremlin. I remember the moment we discovered that I’d grown taller. I was still in elementary school and we were walking side by side down a sunny block in Chicago. I looked in a shop window as we passed and my reflection hovered above hers. She glared at me when I pointed it out and explained how perspective worked. Objects in the mirror may be shorter than they appear. But I was the one further from the glass, nearer to the curb. Later, at home, I lorded it over her, and she cried.

She doesn’t remember any of this, which makes me wonder which of us was more traumatized: the sister who found it so painful to be outgrown, or the sister who would come to hate that she’d grown so much, so fast.

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Hi!

First of all let me say "Thank You!" for taking the time out to read my blog. My name is Dominique, and I am 6'2". That isn't usually the way I introduce myself, but since this is "The Tall Girl Diaries", I thought it seemed appropriate. I was born in the beautiful city of Stockholm, Sweden and resided there until I was 13 when I moved to Atlanta, GA (A-Town baby!). I lived there for several years until I got bored and decided that better weather was for me and moved to Boca Raton, FL, where I worked as a nanny for a year. I then moved the wonderfully beautiful, and amazing Miami, FL. After having stayed there for a year, I thought I was in love and moved to St. Louis, MO.

I have now been here for the past three years and I have grown to really like it. I have met the love of my life, and we are now living our lives as happy as I think any two people can, and I am blogging my way through the world.

I hope that this blog can reach the young women who aren't yet comfortable with their height, and that I can hopefully inspire them to stand tall and be proud. After all, I wasn't always in love with being tall. I am also hoping to reach the tall women who are loving their height, but just need some help guiding their way through the world of tall girl shopping. I mean, let's be honest here. Tall girl shopping isn't the same as average height shopping. Last but not least, I am hoping to reach all women of all sizes who enjoy fashion, food, and sometimes serious topics.

XO, Dominique

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The Tall Girl's Guide To Denim Shopping

Ray Lowe
‎October‎ ‎4‎, ‎2017

If you're any size that deviates from what brand's consider to be "standard," finding a decent pair of jeans for a decent price can feel like a frustrating experience. For tall girls specifically, the solution isn't as simple as heading to a tailor — especially when there's not enough material to work with in the first place. A standard inseam runs around 32" to 33", which is just enough for 5' 6" woman... in flats. But a successful find for above average heights isn't just about the length of the inseams. Most brands offering "longer" bottoms don't properly adjust for different fits and sizes (not everyone over 5' 7" has a Karlie Kloss figure, you know).

With that in mind, more brands are starting to offer "tall" specific pieces. Loft, Old Navy, the ever trusty throwback Abercrombie & Fitch - they all sell a steady selection of denim tailored towards the longer-limbs. To make things even easier, we've pulled out the the most flattering cuts and fits from brands that know a tall girl's pain.

No more unintentional high water jeans for this crew. For pants that will finally fit, click ahead.

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Jul 7, 2016 6:30 PM
Alice Casely-Hayford

"Go high or go home" has been my shoe mantra since I finally accepted my height — all six feet of it — about eight years ago. Throughout my teen years, I was crippled with insecurity about my BFG-esque stature: I towered above the boys I fancied, was over half-a-foot taller than all of my friends, and my gym teachers always assumed I would be the best in my class (I hate sports and breaking a sweat, have minimal to no athletic abilities, and subsequently disappointed a lot of people).

Shopping, too, was a constant struggle. Fits were never quite right: jeans were ankle-swinging, and sleeves showed too much wrist for my liking. On nights out, I was always the one in flats while my friends showed off their new heels. And with my broad shoulders, too, sometimes the cut of a top was so tight, I'd be hunched over like Quasimodo. It was not a good look.

But hold the violins: This story ends quite happily. Thankfully, by the time I went to college, the boys grew, I discovered some of the advantages of being tall (no ID for me!), and I finally found the right pieces to not just cover, but flatter, my long limbs. For those who feel the same, here's what I've learned: Don't feel like a kitten heel is your only option. Don't feel limited by your wardrobe, feel liberated. And ignore anyone who remarks on your height.

I've also figured out how to wear just about anything thrown my way. Ahead, are six fail-safe outfit options and items that will help all the (tall) ladies in the place embrace their inches.

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The Tall Society - by Bree

I have made several attempts in writing this piece and I came to the conclusion that being 100% open and honest with you all will be the way forward. I am sincerely looking forward to connect with my tall sisters worldwide and sharing a piece of who I am will be the first step in getting to know each other better.

My full name is Brunnhilde Wijnaar, but you can call me Bree. I was born in Rotterdam, The Netherlands. Yep so I am Dutch and was born in 'The land of the Tall', or so they say... Well I still towered over all of my friends, but we'll get to that.

I grew up in Rotterdam. In my opinion a great place to learn about the world, its different cultures and diversity. I attended both elementary and high school in Rotterdam. I have to say I have always been a social kid; I was fortunate to have a bunch of friends. At the same time I also was very good in hiding how uncomfortable my rapid growth spurt truly made me. Humor and overconfidence was often what I defaulted to.

So back to the height; today I proudly and confidently stand 6'4 tall.

Was I always as comfortable in my own skin as I am today? Absolutely not.

I was a little taller than average until about age 10 as my mom tells me. Then nature took off and left my family and me in a state of shock. The pace at which I was growing was off the charts, I would grow out of clothes literally weeks after I had gotten them and there was a general feeling of 'What on earth is happening'?

At the time I was a fascinating phenomenon for doctors and several tests later they made the estimation that I would grow to be about 6 feet. Their calculations turned out to be inaccurate as I grew well past the 6 feet mark. By age 14 I was a 6'4 teenager with body of a grown woman.

There is more to my story and I am looking forward to sharing it with you.

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By MARLEN KOMAR

If you're a tall woman that constantly hovers a good head taller than the rest of the crowd, then you might be privy to the usual tall jokes and stigmas. But The Tall Society is an organization of women who tell you to embrace that difference, not hide it.

At 5'10, I've heard it all. I get congratulated at bars for being "brave enough" to wear three inch heels, have to deal with short guys' insecurities on dates, feel guilty when standing in front of people at concerts, and feel like a Jolly Green Giant when I'm around petite woman. With the help of body positive circles, I've learned not to let those things bother me. That's what The Tall Society is: A club that dishes out empowerment and positivity to those that want to embrace their differences rather than change them.

"As the go-to platform for tall girls and women, TheTallSociety.com delivers fashion tips, discussions and access to topics of interest to the woman of stature, as well as opportunities to attend events to connect with your Tall Sisters in person, all while getting a daily dose of inspiration, empowerment and positivity," The Tall Society's press release shared.

The site has it all: They share tall girl brands that offer clothes long enough to fit your form, share funny stories unique to Amazon issues ("Yes, I Did Play Basketball,") and offer articles on how to begin the self-love journey to embracing your shape.

The Tall Society helps to further the dialog and narrative of tall women everywhere, and the site offers contributor stories that share their experiences of growing up tall, and what that entails. From commiserating to embracing, it's a space where women can share their journeys and learn to love themselves.

And now they're taking that community off of the interwebs and into real life with "Tall Sister" Brunches that are popping up all over the US.

Founder Bree Wijnaar said in her press release, "It's amazing what these brunches can do. One of our attendees said, (she) 'stood taller when she went to work on Monday.' I really enjoy that our fellowship as Tall Sisters can generate those feelings of empowerment. We have so many events coming up in the next few months across the country and Canada and I can't wait for other Tall Sisters to experience that feeling!"

If you're a tall lady in need of a tribe that understands you, below are some of their upcoming brunch dates:

• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch, Los Angeles, Le Méridien Delfina Santa Monica, December 18
• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch, Atlanta, W Atlanta – Midtown, January 29, 2017
• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch, Chicago, W Chicago Lakeshore, February 12
• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch,Toronto, Canada, The Westin Harbour Castle, February 26
• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch, Dallas, W Dallas Victory, March 12
• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch, Washington, D.C., Fig & Olive, March 26
• Meet Your Tall Sisters Brunch, Seattle, W Seattle, April 22

To register, you can go to The Tall Society. Or if you want to experience your camaraderie online first, see what The Tall Society has to offer on their website here.

Stop slouching and start embracing your height — and if you're still feeling uncertain, The Tall Society has totally got your back.

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This is an article from 2011 but still a good read

On the basketball court, being 6-foot-4 is incredible. In the world of dating, however, it's more complicated

In high school my teammates and I teased our 5-foot-11 basketball coach about the shorter, handsome, rival coach who openly flirted with her during halftime. "Hey, we're all the same height lying down," she would reply, a line that sent us shrieking. Thus, my first lessons in love: A) When you're a tall girl, people are going to have an opinion about the appropriate height of your man; and B) Get over it.

Six-foot-4. One hundred twenty-seven pounds. Eighth grade. It was a miracle of physics that I could walk, let alone run up and down a court bouncing a ball. Luckily, my parents launched a highly successful brainwashing campaign to convince me that being a foot taller than the average American woman was a good thing. My mother enrolled me in ballet. Like a Great Dane among perfect mini-poodles, I learned balance and coordination. My father gently tapped my scapula any time he noticed me stoop. Gabrielle Reece's "Big Girl in the Middle" was required reading.

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By Rachel Gilliam The Winchester Sun Central Kentucky News

Today is your lucky day because the moment you have all been waiting for (and I do realize I'm playing fast and loose with the terms "all" and "waiting") has arrived.

Thursday we found out if the new baby is a boy or girl, and there were no swinging rings or Chinese calendars involved. Just a good, old-fashioned ultrasound, so I feel like it's safe to start painting the room and buying clothes.

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Elisany suffers from gigantism from a tumour on her pituitary gland. Couple have been together three years and have lived together for a year. Elisany still draws stares but Francinaldo says he is proud to show her off. The pair want a long engagement but are already planning the wedding. Although only 18, she hopes to conceive soon due to fears over her fertility

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Usually, these offensive inquisitors have exaggerated their own height

By JUDITH MARTIN, NICHOLAS IVOR MARTIN AND JACOBINA MARTIN | United Feature Syndicate
July 9, 2020 at 1:30 a.m.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am a tall woman and am frequently asked my height by men and women alike. While I find it mildly annoying, I can shrug it off easily enough. (I've never understood why asking someone's weight or age is considered rude, but asking about height is fair game.)

But how might I respond to the occasional man who, after asking this personal question and getting an honest answer, doesn't believe me? It seems to imply that I am either too ignorant to know the right answer or a liar, both of which I find very insulting. (I have had my height of 6'0" verified many times over the years, and I have no reason to "fudge" the numbers.)

A typical confrontation of this sort comes from a man who has exaggerated his own height and wants me to explain the obvious disparity between our viewpoints. The next time this happens, is there a way I can let him know he is being a jerk - without being one myself?

GENTLE READER: Asking a woman's weight is also considered fair game these days, Miss Manners is saddened to admit. That does not make asking her height or her weight any less rude — and, as it is rude, you are under no obligation to answer.

A light smile, accompanied by, "Oh, it's been so long since I measured," is all that etiquette requires.

For the persistent male, you may add, with a slight tone of annoyance, "As I said, it's been some time since I measured. Does it really matter?"

If this is still not enough, move closer, look down at him, and ask firmly - but, please, without a snarl - "Well, we're almost the same height, aren't we?"

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This D.C. Fashion Designer Ditched Her Law Career To Make Clothes For Tall Women

by Staff in Arts & Entertainment on Aug 14, 2017 10:48 am

By DCist contributor Mimi Montgomery

At 5 feet 10 inches, Meghan Evans has always struggled to find clothes that fit her tall frame well. She’d buy mediums and larges for extra length, but the clothing would hang boxy and loose. Once she moved to D.C. in 2015 to work as a lawyer, that problem was only amplified.

“The biggest problem mass marketers face is that tall is not simply adding two inches to your hemline and calling it ‘tall build,’” Evans says. Many retailers like J. Crew and Ann Taylor market to taller women, but don’t always take into consideration that things like bust darts, waist lines, pocket placements and armpit holes are all affected by height.

So Evans decided to take matters into her own hands, and her eponymous clothing line was born.

For its debut this month, she sticks to the business-casual classics: A pink tweed blazer, a blue peplum top, and a textured knit dress are all available on her website, and Evans has plans in the works for pop-up shops, as well.

“I realized how hard it was to find clothes you could wear during the week and on the weekend,” Evans says, especially as a woman requiring specifically tailored clothing. “When I moved to D.C., I obviously didn’t have a full-size closet in my condo, and I don’t want a work wardrobe or a weekend wardrobe or an evening wardrobe. I want stuff that can go from my job to drinks with friends to brunch on the weekends.”

Evans has always loved fashion, purchasing dresses on-sale that would be too short for her and having them tailored into custom tops. But she never thought her style savvy could translate into anything other than a hobby. That is until she realized she had a unique insight into what constituted well-made, frame-fitting clothing for professional women of taller height.

Still, she was a lawyer, not a fashion designer.

So Evans purchased a few books on sketching fashion designs, found a local seamstress in D.C. and began consulting with her, bringing in pieces from her own wardrobe to provide examples and instruction. Trips to trade shows and fabric stores in New York’s Garment District followed, and Evans polled fellow tall friends and scoured online clothing reviews for market research.

Her law background came in handy for the business side of things, too, such as selecting her corporate structure, registering her line and completing the paperwork for it to be incorporated. Plus, it helped her be more judicious in her business planning. “It just makes you very aware and forward-looking,” she says. “Before I take one step, I’m always thinking ten steps beyond…It’s not that you don’t take risks, but they’re calculated and informed.”

Of course, starting one’s own business is a risk itself. Earlier this year, Evans quit her job at a D.C. law firm to pursue her fashion line full-time, a career shift that came with its own struggles.

“It can be lonely,” she says of being an entrepreneur. “Especially if you’re venturing into an area that you’re not trained in formally or have a degree in, and therefore don’t have friends from school as a built-in network.”

But Evans is thankful to have started her line here in D.C., citing its design culture as more open-armed and much less intimidating than that of New York or L.A.

“D.C. has a vibrant community for small and local business, so it’s fun to get to know that community,” she says. She cites local designers such as Rebekah Murray of Virginia Dare Dress Co. and Mimi Miller of Mimi Miller Womenswear as inspiration, guiding Evans throughout the design process with advice and mentorship. “They’re very welcoming, supportive and helpful. It’s been amazing to see how friendly people are.”

And with her plans for future expansion, it’s safe to say Evans could soon be giving out advice to a mentee of her own. Her winter line is currently in the works and will debut later this year, which Evans says will be filled with darker colors and more patterns.

Designing a clothing line while managing a business can be a stretch, but luckily Evans is tall enough to reach it.

Contact the author of this article or email This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. with further questions, comments or tips.

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I own dozens of heels, but I never ever wear them. Let’s change that.

posted on Jul. 21, 2015, at 9:41 p.m.
Sheridan Watson
BuzzFeed Staff

Hi. I’m Sheridan. I’m 5’11”, a size 18, a Leo, and I barely wear heels.

Sure, I’ve bought a ton of heels, but in recent years I’ve noticed how little I actually wear them. Here are some reasons why:

1.) I’m tall. I still remember one night when a date asked me why I was wearing heels since I “already have the height” — as if that’s the only reason I would be wearing them. That’s one way to kill your strut.

2.) I’m plus-size. I know I can’t speak for everyone, but a lot of plus-size women could probably attest to the fact that growing up, we sometimes didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. And heels equals all the attention.

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Jul 16, 2015 4:00 PM
Liza Darwin

Thanks to the recent uptick in cool-girl brands with petite lines - like Reformation's "Don't Call Me Cute" collection and 7 For All Mankind's "Tailorless" denim - the short woman's shopping options have never been better. But what about those on the other side of the height spectrum? Taller ladies are still stuck with their own sartorial problems, such unintentional ankle-baring pants or too-short shirts that become de-facto crop tops. Sure, labels like ASOS Tall have provided a welcome selection of casual pieces, but when it comes to dressing up, we've just found a new savior: Marge. As one of the first luxury clothing lines designed specifically for tall women, each piece is tailored for those who stand at 5 foot 9 and taller (which, incredibly, is about 36% of the population).

In 2014, after she had trouble finding clothing that suited her 6 foot 1 frame, Marge founder Kaersten Cooper decided to design her wardrobe herself. The label's debut fall/winter collection, which is aptly titled "Life Up Here," includes elegant and timeless items like tailored trousers, pencil skirts, and overcoats. The clothes themselves might be classic, but the difference lies in the details: the dresses are elongated, the straight-leg pants are cut a bit higher, and the silk tees delicately define with waist without showing any stomach. And, not to mention, the brand boasts one of the most exhaustive fit guides we've ever seen - so women ranging from 5 foot 9 all the way up to 6 foot 5 and beyond can find their best sizes and fits. Marge's debut collection ranges from $300 to $1,200 and launches online today. Shop it here, click through to read our interview with Cooper, and prepare to stand tall.

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By Andrea Morabito - June 5, 2016 | 5:43am 

Blond and athletic, Katja Bavendam is used to turning heads.

As she walks down Chambers Street in Tribeca, a woman stops the 31-year-old to snap a photo. Another woman leans out of her car window in traffic to yell, “You’re beautiful!” Several other people do double-takes as they pass her on the sidewalk.

Such is life as a 6-foot-8-inch woman in New York City.

Bavendam is starring in Season 2 of TLC’s “My Giant Life” (premiering Tuesday at 10 p.m.), which follows the lives of six women over 6-foot-6-inches. They’re from all over the country, though being extremely tall in a crowded city like New York brings a unique set of trials and tribulations.

“Cabs are tight, the regular [ones]. I hail whatever stops by, but that’s definitely uncomfortable,” Bavendam tells The Post. “The subway, I usually get in at the middle door because at the end of the car there’s the AC units, so there’s less headroom. When it’s really crowded . . . if I turn around and make a wrong move, I literally elbow people in the face, and I don’t want to do that.”

Though her height didn’t stop her from marrying a shorter person (her wife, Julie, is 5-foot-2) or adopting two lap dogs (a beagle-Chihuahua mix and a terrier mix), there are certain “rules of life” when you’re 6-foot-8: Always pay for the extra-legroom seats on a flight.

Never take long bus trips. And avoid attending a show or play if it’s not worth sitting knees-to-chest for three hours.

Though there are pitfalls - Bavendam’s Tribeca studio apartment only fits a full-size bed — such height also comes with benefits, like always having an unobstructed view at a concert and never finding your face in someone else’s sweaty armpit on a rush-hour subway.

“It’s nice, you always have your own bubble and breathing room,” says Bavendam, who works as a traffic engineer at an urban planning firm near Madison Square Park.

She comes from a tall family: Bavendam’s mother is exactly 6 feet and her father and sister are both 6-foot-3-inches. So for the new TV star - who grew up in Germany and moved to Manhattan in 2011 - participating in “My Giant Life” was just a way to harness the attention she’s drawn her whole life.

“I get approached so much and my picture is floating around on fetish Web sites; I already feel like a public person,” she says. “I might as well have some fun with it... because my life already feels like I’m part of a show. People [on the street] feel entitled to talk to me and ask for my life story.” Graciously, Bavendam views the spotlight as more amusing than annoying.

“I find it fascinating that people are fascinated with my height.”

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By Kat Armstrong on June 16, 2016

It’s hard enough to find clothes that are on trend and look great while not breaking the bank, which is why stores like H&M are so great - they’re always on it when it comes to what’s in, and you can always find something affordable for a little closet update. What stores like H&M don’t always offer, however, is great sizing, and one UK woman took to Facebook to let them know that she was fed up with their not-great-for-bigger-bodies clothing.

In a post entitled “Dear H&M,” British shopper Ruth Clemens lambasted the Swedish retailer for their smaller-than-normal sizing. Being a tall woman, she says, (5’11”) and of average size (a UK size 14 or US 10), she was expecting a size 16 pair of jeans to fit her, but when she got to the change room, she couldn’t even button the waistband. “As I’m sure you’re aware,” said Ruth, “size 16 is the largest size you stock (apart from in your plus size range, which is very limited in store and does not offer the range of styles for the fashion-conscious that are available in smaller sizes).” She then went on to point out that her top was from the same store but a size M. So, she wondered, what was H&M doing with its odd sizing?

With hundreds of comments on the post agreeing with Clemens, over 10,680 shares and over 80,000 likes and reactions, H&M had no choice but to respond by saying that sometimes their sizing varies, but is always up to international standards. They also apologized and offered to take the feedback to heart, investigating why their sizing is so much smaller than other stores. Whether or not the retailer will be changing their sizing guidelines any time soon remains to be seen, but it’s good to know that they’re actually listening to customer feedback.

Do you find H&M sizing too small? Tell us @BritandCo!

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At The Players’ Tribune, we know it’s not just what you wear on the field, but what you wear off of it. That’s why we’ve created Threads Report, a series where we ask our contributors to look inside their closets, suitcases, lockers and whatever else — and share some items they’ve had in heavy rotation.

Here with the latest Threads Report is Los Angeles Sparks forward (and jeggings advocate) Nneka Ogwumike.

#BlogLife

About two years ago, I really started to get into fashion. Fashion is about feel and intuition — there’s an art to it, for sure. But at the same time, I’m a studier. I’m a thinker. And so I had to put my own personal spin on Fashion 101. I started studying different blogs.

And then I started checking out — and later shopping on — certain websites, especially those that cater to tall women. There are quite a few out there that most people don’t know about.

One of my go-to places is ASOS. They sell a lot of different clothes from other vendors, but then they also have their own ASOS line. And they have a great tall section. Long Tall Sally has a great shoe section, called Barefoot Tess. Alloy is awesome — they have 38-inch inseam pants, which is insane. And then Nordstrom Rack always has a good selection of items in my size.

Fashion has been a learning experience in general, but especially when it comes to shopping as a tall woman. One lesson I’ve learned is that any short dress you wear is going to look shorter than it needs to be. Always. I’ve also learned that maxi-type dresses or skirts look beautiful on tall women. You can never go wrong with anything floor length.

And then maybe the most important lesson I’ve learned is that looking beautiful doesn’t have to be about compromise. For example, some tall women will shy away from heels … but, personally, I feel that you can’t go wrong with them. They obviously accentuate your height — but to me, that’s the point. When tall women wear heels, it instills a confidence. And pants are the same way: a lot of times, tall women feel compelled to compromise in the store, and to just accept that the pants they want will be capris. But I say no — go find pants that are long enough. They exist. I like when my fashion choices can express that I’m not rejecting my height. I’m owning it.

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