"When we look at ourselves in the mirror we’re kind of seeing this two-dimensional image of our bodies; we’ve never getting the full feel. So I can see my twin sister's body from every angle and it’s normal. She’s right there in front of me, in every dimension, and I can’t get that perspective any

"We've been picked apart our entire lives by strangers. People think they're complimenting one twin, but really it means the other doesn't have that particular positive attribute. It's not fun to be 'the twin who doesn't do her hair.'"

I usually decline product offers, since I'm more likely to write a 2,400-word screed on "the secret language of toner" than I am to chirp "pores smaller!" But I wasn't above the free spray tan.

When we problematize the cognizance of our own body and frame it as something to overcome, we leave little room for a woman's relationship with her appearance that doesn't fit into this construct: We make the narrative as rigid as the iron maiden of beauty that we're trying to wriggle our way out of.