But I often can't say the same about this hippy body of mine that shuns skinny jeans and ultra-miniskirts.

This week I'm particularly annoyed with it. I badly sprained my ankle so I can't run at all. That scares me because the holidays are coming, and my 5-foot-3 frame is only going to get chunky. I want my clothes to look good on a well-toned body. Period.

If you feel like I do, then you are missing the point, according to Seattle-based photographer Rosanne Olson.

Olson was in town Friday to speak at an eating-disorders conference hosted by the Renfrew Center and to promote her new book, This Is Who I Am: Our Beauty in All Shapes and Sizes (Artisan, 2008). The 112-page hardcover is filled with provocative, sepia-toned photographs of nude women.

The book, Olson said, is her way of proving that our bodies were created to transport our souls. A good body isn't a thin body or a young body or an alabaster body. A good body is a healthy body - one that helps us to live our life to the fullest.

"In order to appreciate your life, you have to appreciate the vehicle that carries you around in life," said Olson at a local Starbucks, as she peered over jeweled, black-framed eyeglasses.

Olson spent five years shooting 54 women against a softly painted backdrop. The bodies - whatever the complexion - seem to blend right in.

Yet despite the fact that they bared all for the camera, the women Olson photographed were just as conflicted about their bodies as we are. Each picture is accompanied by an essay that explains how the woman's self-image has been shaped by her body image.

There is 42-year-old Gretchen, photographed shortly after a mastectomy with only her right breast, and 38-year-old Loti, who loves her brown body. Kiyoka, who is 31, laments that she's too skinny, even though her Japanese culture adores near-skeletal figures.

There are overweight women who are proud of their sagging skin, voluptuous breasts and odd tattoos. There are mothers pictured with their children who want their daughters to be cured of self-loathing. An adopted woman couldn't appreciate her body until she met her birth parents.

Elderly women are included, covering themselves demurely with weightless tulle. Their creased wrinkles appear as hard-earned accessories that demand our respect rather than open-mouthed stares.

As you flip through the glossy pages, you can't help but believe these are everyday bodies - the bodies that should be revered, respected and loved. Yes, the fashion world was wowed last weekend by Heidi Klum and a bevy of supermodels at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show in Miami. But those taut, hairless bodies are anomalies. Why do we feel bad about our imperfections? Why do we even call them that?

It's largely fashion's fault.

"Magazines promote a certain thinness; it's such a narrow definition of beauty," Olson said.

"It's a waiflike beauty, a straightness. There is an unreal standard of what it is to be beautiful. But I see beauty in everyone. That is why I needed to do the book."

At 58, Olson is comfortable with her body. But it was a long journey. As a child growing up in North Dakota, she was a gymnast. And she was anorexic.

"Before I wrote this book, I never told anyone about my struggle," she said. "But I learned that I had to have compassion for myself. That would, in turn, help me to have compassion for others."

Having worked in nuclear medicine with cancer patients before becoming a photographer, Olson had seen sick people come to appreciate the functionality of their bodies. Suddenly the extra 30 pounds didn't matter anymore.

One day a friend asked Olson to photograph her prior to having a double mastectomy. The friend wanted to give the picture to her husband.

The project started via word of mouth as each woman, pleased with her photographed image, recommended friends to Olson. The individual sessions took several hours. Slowly, the women relaxed into one of the few things in the world that undeniably belonged to them - their bodies.

So as the coming holidays will no doubt put a damper on my never-ending quest for smaller hips, I can't help but think that I need to be grateful for a healthy frame.

And why not wear that little black dress that accentuates my heinie?

After all, says Olson, "We may never get to the goal of an ideal body, so why live our lives waiting? Not only is there a chance we may never reach the goal, but we miss life along the way."