Drawing the female figure in its standard proportions just got so boring. I wanted flesh rolling in waves, fabric pulling and pinching, bums blanc-mangeing all over the place. With every page I drew, boobs shrunk, bellies got plump and the thighs, oh the thighs. Looking for inspiration, my feed automatically filled itself with curves. It became a place I could relax, somewhere I felt at home.
By emphasising and admiring all that I was taught to hate, I gently rewired my brain.