Billie Eilish’s decision to wear baggy clothes wasn’t just about fashion. She has talked about why she chose to dress in oversized outfits and how her style has changed over time to include more form-fitting looks.
Here are three key moments where fans got a peek at her figure, showing how her fashion has evolved.
Billie Eilish Pirate Baird O’Connell was born on December 18, 2001, in Los Angeles, California. She is an American singer and songwriter who became famous with her first single, “Ocean Eyes,” in 2015.
Billie Eilish, who has openly discussed her struggles with body image, quickly rose to fame in the music industry. Her debut album, *”When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?”* topped charts around the world, proving she was a major talent to watch. Despite her success, Eilish continued to keep her body hidden, choosing baggy clothes as a way to feel more comfortable in the spotlight.
For years, Billie Eilish became known for her signature oversized clothes and layered chains, which sparked curiosity and speculation about her appearance. However, there are a few moments where Eilish’s figure is visible, offering a glimpse into her evolving style. These three featured images highlight how the singer’s look has shifted, showing a more confident side of her while still staying true to her individuality.
Billie Eilish in 2016
In 2017, Billie Eilish rocked a look that was both laid-back and stylish. She attended an event wearing an oversized fishnet shirt, which added to her signature casual, edgy vibe. This outfit showcased her ability to mix comfort with fashion-forward choices, staying true to her unique style.
At one point, a paparazzo snapped a rare photo of Billie Eilish in a tight tank top and shorts, revealing more of her figure than usual. The image spread quickly online, with people commenting on her appearance, some even suggesting she looked older than her age. This moment fueled more discussion about her body and her choice to typically wear baggy clothes.
The photo, taken when Billie Eilish was quickly walking from her car to her brother’s house, caused many different reactions. Some people supported her, praising body positivity, while others shared negative and hurtful comments.
Billie explained, “I think the people around me were more worried about it than I was. The reason I used to hurt myself was because of my body. To be honest, I only started wearing baggy clothes because of my body.”
Eilish was actually relieved that the paparazzi photo happened when she had a better relationship with her body. Looking back, she remembered struggling with how she viewed her body for many years.
There was a time when Billie Eilish danced excessively and ate very little. At just 12 years old, she even tried a diet pill. Now, looking back, this felt unreal to her, especially since she once thought her body insecurities were only her problem.
It was upsetting for Billie to realize that the internet also had negative opinions about her body. “The internet hates women,” she said.
In 2020, Billie made a short film where she slowly takes off a black hoodie, showing a bra underneath, before sinking into a pool of thick black liquid. In a voiceover, she wonders if people truly understand her, pointing out that they judge her thoughts, music, clothes, and body.
Billie Eilish in 2019
In a Calvin Klein ad for the campaign “I Speak My Truth In #MyCalvins,” Billie Eilish explained why she likes wearing baggy clothes. She said that fashion helps her keep her privacy. By wearing oversized outfits, she feels she can avoid people’s judgments and keep a part of herself hidden from the world.
“No one can say any of that because they don’t know,” Billie Eilish emphasized, referring to the way people form opinions without understanding her. Her fans stood by her decision to wear baggy clothes, saying it made them admire her even more, both as a person and an artist. They appreciated her honesty and the way she stayed true to herself despite outside pressure.
Many fans of Billie Eilish shared their support for her on X.
One fan wrote, “When Billie Eilish said she wears baggy clothes so people can’t judge her body, I really felt that.”
Another fan said, “I always thought that’s why she wore big clothes because I used to do the same. I love you, @billieeilish.”
Another admirer expressed their frustration, saying, “I will always support Billie. It’s sad she feels she has to dress like this to avoid body shaming from people who do it for no reason.”
One fan highlighted the unfairness of the situation, saying, “The fact that Billie Eilish wears baggy clothes to avoid being sexualized shows something is wrong with our society.”
Billie Eilish in 2021
During the pandemic, Billie Eilish spent a lot of time alone and realized she had lost touch with how she saw herself. She started to understand that she didn’t really know who she was anymore, so she decided to go on a journey of self-discovery.
In 2021, Billie Eilish embraced her complexity and individuality by posing for British Vogue in three photos showcasing her figure. She shared that she had embraced her multifaceted nature and recognized that she isn’t limited to just one identity.
Looking back, Billie Eilish shared that she spent much of her life presenting herself in a masculine and boyish way. Over the years, she realized that she had the freedom to express herself in different ways.
Billie Eilish said, “I don’t need to always prove to everyone that I’m a tomboy. That’s part of who I am, but I’m also feminine, sexy, and cute. I can be all these things.”
Billie Eilish, who wore a corset for a photo shoot, said she liked its style but also acknowledged its history of confinement. She admitted, “If I’m honest with you, I hate my stomach, and that’s why.”
Eilish used her new look to send a strong message. She addressed those who exploit underage girls, saying, “Don’t make me not a role model because you’re turned on by me.”
She also spoke out against people who praise her for feeling comfortable in her body, pointing out that it can make things worse. “The more the internet and the world care about somebody doing something different, they put it on such a high pedestal that then it’s even worse,” she explained.
With her new look, including changes to her signature black and green hair, Eilish said, “I feel more like a woman, somehow.”
In 2023, Billie Eilish adopted a more sophisticated and feminine style. She often appeared in elegant and elaborate outfits at high-profile events, highlighting her evolving fashion sense.
For instance, at the 2023 Academy Museum Gala, Eilish put on a busty display in a striking pinstriped suit. The tailored set featured a fitted blazer with a plunging neckline, accentuating her curves. Eilish completed the look with a matching skirt.
At the 2023 Academy Museum Gala, Billie Eilish wore a striking pinstriped suit that showcased her curves. The tailored blazer had a plunging neckline, and she paired it with a matching skirt, giving her a sophisticated and bold appearance.
Billie Eilish in 2024
At the 29th Annual Critics Choice Awards, Billie Eilish wore a stunning Thom Browne outfit. She opted for a black, form-fitting corset-style dress layered over a floor-length white collared shirt. To complete her look, she added round glasses and styled her vibrant red and black hair in a sleek, tied-back fashion.
Billie Eilish’s changing fashion style, from edgy tomboy outfits to sophisticated and elegant looks, reflects her growth as both an artist and a person. Her fashion choices show off her unique style and also help her address important issues like body image and body shaming.
By expressing herself through her style and speaking up about these issues, the 22-year-old continues to be a prominent figure in both fashion and music.
The House Was So Cheap I Thought I Won the Lottery, but When I Saw the Basement, I Understood Everything — Story of the Day
was tired of paying rent my whole life and was ready to fulfill my dream of buying my own house. A dream home at an unbeatable price seemed like the ultimate win—until I realized there were reasons for the low price hidden in the basement.
The first time I saw the house, I could hardly believe my luck.
It was like something from a postcard—a charming colonial with white siding and green shutters, tucked away at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street.
Sure, the paint was peeling a little, and the roof could use some work, but it had character. A lived-in charm that felt… welcoming. Almost.
Susan, the real estate agent, was waiting by the front door, her grin as bright as the clipboard of documents she waved in the air.
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“Perfect day to finalize your dream home, huh?” she said, her tone so chipper it made me wonder if she was trying a little too hard.
I nodded, eager to see inside. The house didn’t disappoint. Room by room, it seemed to reveal more reasons for me to fall in love.
The living room had a fireplace that practically begged for stockings at Christmas, and the hardwood floors creaked just enough to remind you they had a history.
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Susan trailed behind me, her heels clicking against the floor as she narrated.
“You won’t find a deal like this anywhere else,” she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“A home like this at this price? Practically unheard of.”
She was right, and I knew it. Still, something felt off—just a whisper of doubt at the back of my mind. It grew louder when we reached the basement door.
Unlike the others, this one had a lock. Not a simple latch, but a solid, heavy-duty lock that didn’t belong in a cozy house like this.
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“What’s down there?” I asked, pointing at the door.
Susan’s smile faltered, just for a second. She quickly recovered, but the hesitation had been enough.
“Oh, the basement,” she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss it. “Just your standard storage space. I… uh… misplaced the key. I’ll have it sent over later.”
Her voice wavered, and the way she avoided my gaze made my stomach twist. But I told myself I was overthinking it.
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After all, this was my dream house, right? A place where I could start afresh.
I signed the papers, and Susan left in a hurry, her heels clicking faster than before.
By the time I started unloading boxes from my car, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the street.
That’s when I noticed her—an older woman standing on the porch of the house next door.
Her face was a map of deep wrinkles, and her thin lips curled into a tight, disapproving line, like she’d just bitten into a lemon.
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“Hi there!” I called, trying to sound cheerful. “I’m your new neighbor.”
She didn’t answer. She just stared, her eyes narrowing before she turned and disappeared inside her house without a word.
The screen door slammed shut behind her.
I shrugged, telling myself she was probably just one of those grumpy types. Still, her silence gnawed at me.
I spent the rest of the day unpacking, trying to ignore the prickle of unease that lingered.
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By the time I collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion claimed me, and I drifted into a restless sleep, the house settling around me like it was testing me, deciding if I belonged.
I woke to a sound that pulled me from the depths of sleep, a sound I couldn’t quite place.
At first, I thought it might’ve been the wind rattling the old windows, but then it came again—soft and eerie, like a child’s giggle.
My heart started pounding, loud and insistent, and I lay still for a moment, straining to hear more. Was I dreaming?
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The giggle came again, clearer this time. High-pitched, carefree, and completely out of place in the stillness of the night.
My throat tightened as fear prickled down my spine. I sat up, scanning the darkened room.
Shadows stretched across the walls, and the only sound was the ticking of the old clock above the mantel. But the giggle was real. I knew it.
Swallowing my nerves, I grabbed the closest thing I could find—a mop leaning against the corner of the room.
My palms were already sweaty, and the handle felt slippery as I gripped it tightly.
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I crept through the house, the hardwood floors creaking beneath my feet. My breathing was shallow, and every step made my chest tighten further.
The sound grew louder as I approached the basement door. The lock on it glinted faintly in the dim light. I stopped, staring at the door as if it might move on its own.
My stomach churned as I raised the mop, holding it like a weapon. “Who’s there?” I called out, my voice shaking.
Silence. For a moment, I thought maybe the sound had been in my head.
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Then it came again—a giggle, followed by a soft, whispering hush that sent goosebumps racing up my arms.
I couldn’t bring myself to open the door. Instead, I backed away, grabbing my phone and dialing 911 with trembling fingers.
The dispatcher’s calm voice tried to soothe me, but all I could do was stammer about the noises.
Twenty minutes felt like an eternity before the flashing red and blue lights finally appeared outside.
A single officer stepped out, his posture relaxed, his face unimpressed. “So, what’s going on here?” he asked, tilting his head toward me.
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“There’s someone in the basement,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I heard laughing.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Laughing, huh?” With a sigh, he fetched a crowbar from his car and approached the door.
The sound of the lock snapping open echoed in the quiet house. I held my breath as he disappeared down the stairs, his flashlight casting strange, flickering shadows.
Minutes later, he reappeared, shaking his head.
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“Just cobwebs and dust,” he said, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Nothing down there.”
“But I heard it!” I protested, heat rising to my face.
He smirked, shrugging.
“You’re not the first. Last few owners said the same thing. If you’re scared, maybe this isn’t the house for you.”
I clenched my fists, my frustration bubbling. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home.”
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“Suit yourself, and good luck with the haunted house.” He left laughing, leaving me standing in the hallway, mop in hand, seething as the sound of his cruiser faded into the night.
The next morning, my phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the quiet stillness of the house.
I picked it up and glanced at the screen. A number I didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Margaret,” a thin, raspy voice said on the other end.
“The previous owner. Just checking in to see how you’re settling in.”
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Her voice immediately put me on edge, like she already knew something I didn’t. I hesitated before replying.
“The house is lovely,” I said cautiously. “But… something strange happened last night.”
There was a pause. I could hear her breathing, soft and uneven. Then she sighed—a long, heavy sound that made my stomach drop.
“You’re not the first, Clara” she admitted finally.
“There’s… a history with that house. Some say it’s haunted. I’ve tried to fix it, but nothing ever helps.”
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Haunted? The word hung in the air like a fog. My fingers tightened around the phone. “What kind of history?” I asked, my voice firmer than I felt.
She dodged the question.
“If you want out, I’m willing to buy it back,” she said quickly, her tone almost desperate. “Not the full price, but close enough.”
Her offer was tempting. I wouldn’t have to deal with the creepy noises or the weird basement.
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But the thought of giving up made my pride bristle. I’d worked hard for this house. I wasn’t about to walk away.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ll figure this out.”
After we hung up, I grabbed a flashlight and headed for the basement. The air was cool and damp, carrying the stale smell of mildew.
I swept the beam of light across the basement. Dusty shelves, old pipes, and cobwebs filled my view.
Then I noticed something strange—scuff marks on the floor near the vent. Faint but deliberate, like something had been moved. My pulse quickened. Something wasn’t adding up.
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That night, I lay in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around me, every muscle tense. I kept my eyes on the ceiling, listening to the silence.
It wasn’t peaceful, though. It felt like the house was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Then, it came. The giggle. That same eerie, childlike sound that sent chills racing down my spine.
I sat up, heart pounding, but this time, it wasn’t just laughter. A faint hissing followed, like air escaping a tire.
My chest tightened as I slipped out of bed and tiptoed downstairs, each step creaking louder than I wanted.
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When I reached the basement door, I froze. A pale mist was creeping out from underneath, curling like ghostly fingers into the hallway.
My breath caught, and I fumbled for my phone, quickly dialing 911.
It wasn’t long before the now-familiar police cruiser pulled up. The same officer stepped out, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
“Again?” he said, shaking his head as he approached.
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Before I could respond, another car pulled into the driveway. Margaret stepped out, her face pale and drawn, her movements nervous.
“I heard what’s happening,” she said, avoiding my gaze.
“Let’s all go down together,” I suggested, trying to keep my voice steady. The officer sighed but nodded, his flashlight already in hand.
Margaret hesitated, but with a glance at me, she reluctantly agreed.
The basement was just as empty as before—dusty shelves, cobwebs, and shadows.
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“See? Nothing,” the officer said, his frustration obvious. “You sure you’re not imagining things?”
I wasn’t backing down. “I set up a camera,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Let’s check the footage.”
I pressed play. The video showed Margaret sneaking into the basement.
She unlocked the door, placed a small speaker near the vent, and set up a fog machine before quickly leaving.
The officer’s jaw tightened. “Well, well,” he muttered. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a case.”
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Margaret’s face flushed red. “I… I was just trying to get the house back!” she stammered. “I didn’t mean any harm!”
The officer snapped handcuffs onto her wrists. “You can explain that to the judge.”
As they led her away, I stood in the doorway of my house, breathing deeply. For the first time, I felt like it was truly mine. I had fought for it, and I had won.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: It was a tough life for Molly. Her main concern was her son, Tommy. The constant changing of schools and towns wasn’t good for him. He started bullying other kids and starting fights. She never imagined that one call to the principal’s office would restore a part of her life she thought was lost.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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