She was always straightforward with herself; yes, the thing that was not quite right was her own stupid shape.

Her figure was too square, her back was too short, her hands too large.

She had a moment of acute disgust with herself so that she could have torn the dress from her and rushed into her old obscure and dingy black again.

Of what use to dress her up?
She would always look wrong, always be awkward and ungainly ...

tears of disappointment gathered slowly in her eyes.