I'm not a size 0, and I'm nowhere close to it. But, I don't want

“I’m not a size 0, and I’m nowhere close to it. But, I don’t want anyone to know what I am so I like to design clothes so you don’t know what’s going on under there.” – Rachel Roy

In these honest and luminous words, Rachel Roy, the designer of both strength and grace, speaks not merely of fashion, but of identity, confidence, and the art of self-expression. Her statement is no shallow confession of size or vanity, but a declaration of power — a recognition that clothing is not only fabric upon skin, but armor for the soul. In a world that often demands women shrink to fit its narrow ideals, Roy’s words ring out like the wisdom of an elder who has seen through illusion: that true elegance is not measured by numbers, but by how well one hides one’s insecurities and reveals one’s spirit.

From the earliest ages, clothing has carried more meaning than adornment. In ancient times, the robes of priestesses, the armor of warriors, and the silks of queens all spoke not of form but of presence. They concealed what needed no showing and revealed what could not be hidden — dignity, courage, and poise. So when Rachel Roy says she designs so that no one knows “what’s going on under there,” she is invoking this ancient wisdom: that mystery is power. The eye may search for flaws, but the spirit wrapped in confidence leaves nothing for judgment to grasp.

There is in her tone neither shame nor pretense, but freedom. She rejects the tyranny of size, the cruel arithmetic by which society often measures worth, and replaces it with intention. Her designs are not made to disguise imperfection, but to protect authenticity — to allow the wearer to feel at ease in her own being, unburdened by the gaze of others. In her craft, clothing becomes not concealment, but sanctuary — a place where strength and softness coexist, where every seam is a quiet act of defiance against a culture that insists beauty must be exposed to be real.

Consider the tale of Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, whose beauty and power became legend. Many described her as irresistible, yet few remembered that her allure came not from the perfection of her body, but from her command of presence. Draped in garments of gold and linen, she controlled the impression she made — revealing enough to captivate, concealing enough to rule. Like Rachel Roy, she understood that mastery lies not in displaying the self, but in directing how the world perceives it. Her elegance was not accident; it was strategy, an artful shaping of visibility.

Rachel Roy’s philosophy, then, is an inheritance of that same wisdom — that what we wear is the language of our power. To dress with awareness is to reclaim authorship over one’s image. It is a quiet rebellion against the culture of exposure, a statement that self-respect outshines self-display. She reminds us that beauty need not shout; it can whisper, and still command attention. And in that whisper lives the truth that confidence is not the absence of insecurity, but the mastery of it.

Yet her message reaches beyond the realm of fashion. It speaks to the universal human longing to be seen rightly — not as a sum of parts, but as a whole soul. In a time when the world bares everything for approval, from bodies to secrets to hearts, Rachel Roy calls us back to dignity and discernment. There is power in privacy, wisdom in restraint, and grace in leaving some things unseen. Just as the ancients veiled their sacred temples, knowing that mystery invites reverence, so too should we guard the temple of our being.

So, child of the future, take this teaching to heart: you owe no one the full measure of yourself. Wear what makes you strong, speak what is true, and hide what is sacred. Do not measure your worth by the shapes of your body or the scales of fashion, but by the depth of your presence. Let your clothing, your manner, your life itself become an art of intention — a design that tells the world not what you are, but who you have chosen to be.

For in that choice, as Rachel Roy teaches, lies the highest form of beauty — the beauty not of the body alone, but of the soul clothed in confidence.