Good Stuff: Links & Likes

Image from The Guardian, copyright Jenny Jimenez/www.photojj.com

This Lindy West piece from The Guardian is just about the most perfect thing I've ever read, interrogating the intersections between feminism, fat and capitalist exploitation in the wedding industrial complex. Searingly honest, West argues that the very act of a fat woman being happy and loved is a political statement. I want this piece tattooed all over my body so I can read it at any time.

I loved Laura's chair makeover; I'll definitely be stealing this idea in future!

And while we're on the subject of crafts, how amazing is this statement necklace made from recycled buttons?

I had ALL the feels while reading this piece about being bisexual at Pride. Just... so much yes.

The New York Times feature on two pairs of identical twins, in which one of each pair was swapped at birth, meaning they were raised as fraternal twins, was simply amazing.

Finally, Elise started The Buyer's Archive a while ago, I borrowed her idea, and now Donna of Polkadot Pink and Steffany of Deep Greens & Blues have joined in too.

Good stuff: Links & likes

Storage pot DIY: image source & © Make Do & Spend

There's been some pretty great stuff around the internet these past couple of weeks. Sometimes, when I'm putting together a links post, I struggle for material. Not so this time.

First up, Buzzfeed's piece imagining Hermione was the main character of the Harry Potter series -  renamed Hermione Granger and the Goddamm Patriarchy - is nothing short of genius. "Not all wizards, right?"

I loved E's post on getting organised, especially her super easy DIY storage pots. How great does her spare room look now?

The Militant Baker's article, about why people hate happy fat people, is just brilliant. I loved her notion of 'body currency' and the ways in which people feel ripped off, cheated, when someone doesn't participate in the expected battles with their body; when they don't strive for a media-created idea of perfection. Anyway, instead of listening to me summing it up, go read it.

Louisa's Tunnock's teacakes coasters look amazing, and simple to make too.

This piece - How Should An Abortion Be? - from Gawker is a much more nuanced and detailed look at some of the issues I raised in my post a couple of weeks ago. Essential reading.

Sarah wrote a superb take-down of the argument that feminists shouldn't care about the #NoMorePage3 campaign because 'there are bigger issues to worry about'.

Elise's series on her favourite blogs is a great source of new reading (and no, I'm not just mentioning it because she name-checked me. Although that was nice).

I know I definitely fall into a blog rut - not so much with regard to writing here (although that happens too!), but in terms of the other blogs I'll comment on or the bloggers I interact with on the regular. This post about blogging acts of kindness was therefore a welcome reminder of the nice things I can do as a blog reader (via Becky).

A MASSIVE thank you to all of you who've posted and tweeted about the Big Blog Clothes Swap. Don't forget that sign-up is open until 9th February, and we're especially in need of size 14+ swappers.

Finally, I've been having a tough time at work lately. I think all educators go through phases of wondering why we bother; feeling like the battle to get kids learning might not be worth the cost it inflicts on us. And then Humans Of New York began a series about a middle school in Brooklyn and every night I get home from school, look at his latest pictures and read the captions, and cry. It's an incredibly powerful series, one that really reminds me just why I do the job. If you haven't been following, scroll back to 20th January and look at the first photo of Vidal speaking about his principal, Ms Lopez. Then work your way forwards, through each incredible story, and the fundraising that's gone on, and I defy you to stay dry-eyed.

Good stuff: Links & likes

The deadline for sign-up to my Thrifty Christmas Gift Swap is fast approaching - email me by next Sunday to take part.

I was initially skeptical about this article on fictional characters who should have had abortions but actually I can't disagree with any of them. Lane Kim did deserve more than she got on Gilmore Girls. And a hearty "Hells yeah," to the inclusion of every Thomas Hardy heroine, ever.

And while we're on the subject, I agree with everything in this powerfully argued piece.

Here's Sarah being characteristically brilliant in her post: Ten blogging rules you can break

Nova alerted me to this, about misophonia (or, hatred of the sound of people eating). I have this pretty badly so it was an interesting read.

Lindy West being brilliant in The Guardian : "being fat and happy and in love in public is still a radical act".

Also on the topic of larger bodies, I enjoyed this piece about how hourglass figures have become an 'acceptable' form of fat. This actually goes a long way to explaining to me why I have no problems with being body confident despite being a size 16: I'm lucky enough to have a pretty classic hourglass figure.

And on the flip side of body policing, Keira Knightley recently said some pretty cool stuff about Photoshop, small boobs and body ideals.  

"Just you stood there only in your underwear"

My finger hovered over the Publish button. To press or not to press? I went back and deleted the photo. Then added it again. Finally, I published the post and shut my laptop quickly, before I could change my mind.

So if I was so unsure about it, why did I post a picture of myself in my underwear?

There were clearly risks involved in publishing the photograph. I work in an industry where a career can be destroyed quite easily by incautious actions (not for nothing are both my face and my tattoo out of shot in the image). I could have got away with just using the product photos I'd taken, perhaps combining them with the stock photo from Bravissimo's website. But as uneasy as I felt about using the photograph of myself, I felt more uneasy about not using it.

The biggest and most important step in my journey to becoming body positive was seeing bloggers who reflected my own body shape and size. The first fatshion bloggers I happened across, Lilli, Bethany, Kirsty and Claire, were women who experimented with fashion in different ways but never apologised for their size or talked about weight loss. I found - I still do find - that seeing images of women of all sizes is the single most essential element in feeling confident about how I look.

That's why posting outfit photos was an important step to take for me. If I can inspire just one woman to feel a little bit better about herself, then it's worth it. And that's also why I thought it important that I used an honest (albeit slightly blurred-out) image of myself in the underwear. I still remember the visceral thrill of seeing Bethany post a photograph of herself in underwear; how wonderful and rare and special it felt to see a real*, un-photoshopped, flawed body in all its glory. Or the moment I first saw Lena Dunham strip off on Girls and wanted to cheer out loud, or perhaps weep, so impossible did that simple action seem.

I talk a good game about being body positive and confident but actions speak louder than words. And the truth is, although I am pretty body confident, I am far more so in clothes than out of them. I actually think my body looks pretty great when dressed and I find it easy to be positive about it. Undressed... not so much. Suddenly there's no hiding the fat stomach or the flabby, pasty thighs. Sad, really, that even someone who's a pretty far way down the road of body acceptance still has so much internalised fatphobia.

But the truth is, my pasty thighs and less-than-toned tummy are simply a reflection of what some women look like. We just don't see that truth very often. A lack of diverse bodies in both traditional media and online media perpetuates the idea that there's only one way women should look. It's what can make seeing ourselves in the mirror so dispiriting: our real bodies, whether slim, muscled, fat, or a combination of all of the above, can never measure up to the idealised, heavily photoshopped bodies we see beaming from our screens and magazine pages every day.

If I want to be one of the voices demanding to see more diverse bodies, then it wouldn't be honest to censor my own body. I want to hold myself to the very highest standards. I want to, and excuse the cheese, be the change I want to see in the world. And so that's why I posted a photograph of myself in my pants.

* Please note than when I write about 'real' bodies, I am emphatically not supporting that 'real women have curves' bullshit, which is divisive and damaging. As I commented on Suzy's recent (brilliant) piece about the song All About That Bass, any liberation that relies on the oppression of others is not true liberation. Rather I simply mean bodies which have not been subject to heavy photoshopping.

Good stuff: Links & likes

Image source here

This piece by Jenny Trout about wearing a bikini is just wonderful; I defy you not to laugh out loud. Just a taster:
"The most common concern was my health. Presumably I, as a fat woman, would not know how to properly operate the complicated piece of equipment known as a bikini. What if I strangled in all the straps and ties? What if I became distracted by the complexity of spandex, a substance heretofore unknown to me, and wandered blindly into traffic? What if I ate it?"

Last Saturday's Guardian had a great article about Laura Dodsworth's project to photograph and interview 100 women about their breasts. The stories are incredibly moving and the photographs are powerful (although, predictably but sadly, the below-the-line commenters did not get it at all). There's also a Kickstarter for the production of a book, if you're interested in supporting her work.

Sarah is reliably brilliant but I especially loved her post on living a blogable life. As always, she beautifully articulated many of my own thoughts: in this case, some of the issues with a money-drive, haul-obsessed blogging world.

Considering I have no immediate plans to get wed, I'm far too obsessed with Rock'n'Roll Bride, and this compilation of 44 budget weddings was brilliant, showing how much you can do even on a tiny budget.

While on the subject of weddings, Amy's thoughts on changing her last name really struck a chord with me. I'm quite militant about this: let's just say you would never find me taking a partner's name.

If anyone wants an early Christmas present idea for me, one of these would do nicely, ta.

Have you come across The Every Body Project yet? So much more interesting and inspiring than ordinary street style blogs; I quite often pin a photo and then go on a charity shopping mission to recreate the look.

Good stuff

I loved this honest and true piece about what we don't talk about when we don't talk about abortion.  I went through a phase of not really shutting up about mine, which was probably tedious for those around me but at least it was better than contributing to the silence around abortion.

A powerful piece on Rana Plaza and #ClothesToDieFor

I have a secret to tell you: I don't understand Tumblr.  It makes me feel like An Old, but I just don't get it.  However, this Tumblr on how to fat-hack your wardrobe is pretty awesome and full of fashion inspiration.

I really really (really) want one of these dresses. Gorgeous or what?

An interesting and thought-provoking piece (from the FT, of all places) on the new wave of feminism.

After reading a piece in Bust and then this, I totally want to go to Antwerp.

Finally, Lost In A Spotless Mind is my new favourite blog for fashion and body image stuff.

Good stuff

I think it must be at least a year since I last did a links post.  I always mean to, but somehow never quite get around to sitting down and actually writing one.  Anyway!  Enough about what I haven't done, here's some good stuff from across the internet recently...

Image source here

I am an unashamedly huge fan of Courtney Love.  Complex, bonkers, fiercely intelligent, talented yet flawed: how can you not be a fan?  I still love, and regularly listen to, Hole's Live Through This album, so I really enjoyed reading Spin's recent oral history of the recording of the album.  There was also a great interview in Friday's Guardian.

And The Guardian has been spoiling all us 90s grrrls this weekend, with a Saturday interview with none other than Kathleen Hanna..

Rachelle's righteous fury burns through her post, I Was Unwillingly Turned Into A Fat Person Meme.  A frankly terrifying insight into how the inhabitants of the dark underbelly of the internet react when faced by a woman in control and proud of  her own body.

I howled with laughter at Buzzfeed's latest quiz: How misandrist are you? , which neatly skewers so many misogynistic societal norms.  'Dickflick' and 'dicklit' are now going to enter my regular parlance.

I've linked to Nerdy Feminist's post before, but this one is so far up my street that it's practically knocking on my front door.

I've loved everything that Andrea has written lately, but Parklife 20 Years On was an especially great read.  So much of what she wrote chimed with my own experiences of being immersed in the Britpop culture through fanzines and a network of penpals, especially one of the last lines: "what I'm doing right now with this blog is pretty much the modern equivalent".

And finally, if you didn't listen to BBC 6 Music's brilliant show about protest music on Monday, now's your chance to catch it on iPlayer before it disappears.

Awesome accessories: Sugar & Vice Designs

If you're after accessories that scream rather than whisper, Sugar & Vice might be for you.  I bought their Feminist woodcut necklace earlier this year and, after deciding that my jewellery collection was just the place to declare my politics to the world, they were my first port of call when I wanted a Riots Not Diets acrylic necklace.  An old Riot Grrrl slogan, it perfectly sums up my attitude to body acceptance and it had to be mine.  But could I find a necklace anywhere online?  Could I heckers like*.  Luckily, Sarah at Sugar & Vice came to my rescue and, after a few email exchanges, made me this kick-ass custom necklace for the bargain sum of £14.

If declaring your feminist credentials isn't to your taste (although if not, why not?), I'm fairly sure that another one of Sugar & Vice's 190+ necklace designs will be.  I'm already hankering after the brilliant Kapow! design: one for the birthday list, or the fab Hello Sailer laser cut wood banner necklace, which I love muchly too.  If necklaces aren't your thing (can you tell that they are very much mine?!), then Sugar & Vice also make brooches, earrings, rings... all manner of loveliness with which to accessorise.  All of their pieces are well made despite being priced so reasonably, and I can thoroughly recommend the experience of working with Sarah on custom pieces. 

This is not a sponsored post, I just bloody love Sugar & Vice and wanted to spread the word!

* To use a colloquial, and much-underused, Yorkshire term,

What it's like being a fat woman

Image source here

Hanging out on Twitter a couple of weeks ago, I saw that Bethany from Arched Eyebrow had linked to an article on the Cosmo website about the realities of being a fat woman.  I gave it a read and, like her, was impressed that a mainstream womens media outlet was publishing something so, well, un-fat-phobic.

I have my own issues at the moment around fatness.  I waver between believing everyone should be able to self-identify how they want, and believing that perhaps I'm just not fat enough for the label.  I'm a 14/16/18 depending on where I shop - on the lower reaches of what's considered plus size, but still definitely plus - but because I have a pretty classic hourglass figure (insanely out of proportion huge boobs aside) I can 'pass' as being skinnier than I actually am.  I acknowledge that I do have a huge degree of thin privilege compared to a lot of fat women so  I sometimes wonder if I am 'allowed' to claim that label.  But when I started thinking about these questions I realised that they felt very relevant to my experiences and life.  So here are my answers.

How do you feel when other women around you complain about feeling/being fat?
When it happens at all, I tune it out, but I tend not to spend much time with women who say anything like that.  I generally feel bad for women who feel that way, because they've been so brainwashed into believing that it's their bodies which are wrong rather than society's perceptions.  But I also get annoyed about the implication that fat = bad/ugly, especially as it's often someone slimmer than me complaining.  If they think they are bad/ugly then what must they think of me?

How has your body image changed since high school? College?
My body image as a teenager was shocklingly bad.  I used to drape myself in baggy t-shirts, because I thought that would disguise my size.  Of course, what it actually did was make me look far more enormous than I actually was.  When I was about 17 I started to figure out that maybe tighter-fitting clothes would look better and, once I worked that out, I began to like my body a bit more.  If you can't already tell, my body image is closely tied to fashion and what I wear; my path to true body positivity really began when I found my style groove in my late twenties and then, a couple of years later, when I read my first fatshion blogs and saw bodies that reflected my own.  I can't emphasise how important this was to me, and how much it helped me accept and love my body.

Have you tried dieting? What happened?
Not with any real effort behind it.  I tried Weight Watchers for about a week in my mid-20s but realised pretty quickly that, actually, I prefer being fat and full to slightly less fat and hungry.

Do you think in your case your weight is partly or entirely genetic?
Honestly, I don't think it matters either way.  Framing fat as a genetic issue implies that the fat person is not to blame, and that in turn implies that there is blame to be attached to being fat; that it's something to be ashamed of.

Do you consider yourself healthy? Have there been instances where people assumed you were unhealthy?
I have perfect blood pressure, normal cholesterol and blood sugar, I'm active and fit.  So yes, I'd consider myself healthy.  Could I do more?  Sure.  But so could almost everyone I know, regardless of their size.

Are your parents both supportive of you at the weight you’re at? Have they always been?
I can only recall one time when either of them mentioned my weight - I must have been about 12 or 13, just hitting puberty, and although it was a throwaway comment it haunted me for years and made me feel pretty shitty about myself.  However as an older teen and an adult, neither of them have ever been anything other than supportive.

How do you think retailers can improve clothes for plus-size people?
I went on an epic Twitter rant recently when I discovered that H&M have stopped doing any size above 16 in their main range (which, as anyone who shops at H&M regularly will know, is more like a size 12 or 14 in actual sizes).  Why a retailer would decide to limit their customers so significantly is beyond me - they used to go up to a 22 in their main women's line, so this must surely have a massive impact on their sales.  So retailers actually selling clothes in plus-sizes would be a good start.

Do you think plus-size women are judged differently than plus-sized men are? How?
Inevitably, because plus-size women are working against the twin oppressions of fat-hate and misogyny.  There was a great passage in Hadley Freeman's new book, Be Awesome, where she is addressing the seeming contradiction of the tabloids' approach to the female body (which must always be, in their parlance, either 'scary skinny' or 'flaunting curves'): "There is always going to be something wrong with your body... because it is a grown-up woman's body... The constant criticism of the female body proves that its critics aren't trying to alter the female body - they just don't want a female body at all."  I think if more women could recognise this truth, there would be a good deal more of us who were happy in our own skin.

Do you think there’s ever a right way or time to express concern about someone’s weight?
Nope, not at all. The only person who has a right to express concern about someone's weight is their doctor.

What are the worst things people have said to you about your body?
I work hard to forget them so I won't mention them here.

What have people said (or do you wish they’d say) that would compliment your body or appearance?
I have almost no hang-ups about my body and so compliments about it aren't something I need to hear because I already think it's fine.  But on the flip side, I really hate being asked, "Have you lost weight?" because what the hell am I meant to say?  Clearly the answer they're looking for is, "Yes, thank you!" but the honest answer would be, "Yeah, maybe, because my IBS has been terrible lately and I'm struggling to eat without being very ill.  It sucks, right?"

Do you find yourself hanging out with women who are closer to your size?
No, not at all, most of my friends are skinnier than I am but it's rarely an issue for me.  In fact, a real watershed moment in accepting my body was during a discussion with a very slim friend about thigh rub in summer.  I'd had this weird reserve of self-hate about it and realising that she - at size 8 - had exactly the same issue as me did so much for my self-esteem.  I think it's important to recognise that everyone, no matter what their weight or shape, has hang-ups about their body.  Media coverage of the female body (back to that scary skinny/flaunting curves dichotomy again) makes it clear that it's impossible for anyone to meet their standards.  For me, though, there is a liberation in the idea: if everyone's bodies are wrong, that means no-one's is.

How has your weight affected your sex life, if at all?
Bearing in mind the fact that my parents and brother read this blog, I might need to be careful what I say here!  Essentially my answer is, not at all.  I've always been sexually confident - my theory being that if they've taken their clothes off already, they're not going to run screaming at the sight of my belly or thighs - but being extremely well-endowed in the chest can lead to some comic jiggling.  Aaaand now I feel awkward.  Apologies all for the mental image.

When you’ve been single, has your weight affected your dating life?
No, the only thing that's affected my dating life is my extreme introversion and terror of meeting new people.

Do you feel weird if the guy you’re with only dates larger women?
A couple of the guys I've dated have definitely had a type, but so do lots of people and who am I to judge that?  That being said, I've never felt fetishised, which would be more problematic for me.

Do you feel weird if he’s only dated slimmer women before you?
I actually did feel a bit weird when I realised that my boyfriend had only dated slimmer women before meeting me.  I had a fleeting thought of, "What the hell does he see in me?".  But then I reminded myself that I'm awesome, and he clearly thinks so too, so I didn't stay worried for long.

Day 7: Ten steps to feeling body positive

Image via Autostraddle

I read something the other day that said the average British woman worries about her size and shape every fifteen minutes. Every fifteen fucking minutes! Now, to be fair this was a Grazia magazine survey and, as I will discuss later, women's magazines are a special kind of nutso about weight, leading to their readers probably being a self-selecting group.  But still. 

Despite pretty much always being on the larger side - I'm a size 14/16 now - I've never been particularly negative about my body.  And by making a really concerted effort over the past few years I have got to a place where I can honestly say that I worry about my size and shape pretty much never. 

So what is being body positive?  Simply put, it's about not only not hating your body, but trying to actively like it.  It's about not participating in common discourses around womens bodies, but instead recognising how they are used to oppress us.  It's about using your mental energy for something more useful than worrying about the size of your hips.  Body positivism is linked to radical fat activisim and being fat positive, but you don't have to identify as fat to be body positive. 

1. Surround yourself with the right people
That is, people who won't talk about diets or pinch their thighs while moaning about how fat they are. It's amazing the difference that hanging out with truly body positive people will make. If your friends tend towards self-hate when you're together, then simply choose to not participate. Conversations shut down pretty quickly when one person doesn't take part.

2. Search out images of real women
By which I emphatically don't mean all that bullshit about 'real women have curves'. Rather, I mean make sure you are regularly seeing non-airbrushed images of women who aren't models or actressess: women of all shapes and sizes, from the smallest to the largest. Search out fashion bloggers who have diverse bodies (an enormous step towards me feeling totally body positive was discovering bloggers like Lilli, Claire and Carla, whose bodies reflected my own). Read websites such as xojane.com, which show women of all sizes and shapes. Read radfat zines and books, the content of which can be extremely helpful in your journey to become body positive, no matter what your size.

3. Put down that copy of Closer magazine

Seriously, womens magazines - and especially gossip mags - are the devil. Feeling positive about your own body is not going to happen easily if you're reading articles about how to get a 'beach body' (whatever that may be) or about stars 'flaunting' their curves (for 'flaunting' read: leaving the house while over a size 10). There are some great alternatives to mainstream womens media (I wrote about some of them here) which won't make you feel like your body is something flawed that needs to be fixed. And whatever you do, DO NOT look at Mail Online!

4. Ignore the size of clothes when shopping

I discussed in a post here why the size on the label means less than nothing.  When trying on something that doesn't fit, it is tempting to believe that the problem is you, that the issue is your body, and that if only your boobs were smaller, or your legs longer, or your hips narrower, then all would be well. We almost never blame what is obviously at fault: the garment itself. Designed for a narrow range of shapes (almost certainly none of which match your own unique and wonderful one), the clothes on the high street are the problem, not you. 

5. Know what suits you 
To feel positive about your body, you need to feel positive about what you're wearing, and this is one of two approaches to take when shopping (and the one that works for me).  I know exactly what suits me and have what my friends would agree is an almost slavish devotion to tea dresses, which nip me in at the waist and suit my short stature, or skinny jeans and Breton tops.  I know what looks good on me and - more importantly - what I feel comfortable wearing, so to a large extent I ignore what the latest fashions are and just wear what I've been wearing for years.  Or alternatively...

6. Embrace the maxim: Fuck Flattering
Not something I've managed for myself yet, but one I admire greatly.  There are some fabulous fatshion bloggers out there who embrace their bellies and wear what the hell they like, regardless of whether society deems it 'flattering'.  I suppose my love of striped Breton tops could fall into this category too; how many magazine articles must I have read as a teenager, telling me chubby girls can't wear horizontal stripes?!

7. Focus on what your body is rather than what it isn't
The thing that finally got rid of any remaining dislike of my own body was when I started to hike and ride a bike.  It's really hard to vilify thighs that are capable of hauling you up a mountain, or cycling 20 miles.  The human body is an incredible thing and it seems almost insulting to waste time focusing on your flabby arms when those arms sew or bake or draw beautifully.

8. Diet is a dirty word
A smart, savvy, funny woman I work with made a comment the other day that she'd been on a diet for "the best part of thirty years".  Possibly hyperbolic, but the sentiment is one that many women will be familiar with.  However, the truth is that the diet industry - Weight Watchers, Slimming World and their ilk - just doesn't work long-term.  If it did, there wouldn't be much of an industry to speak of.  I really don't see the point of worrying about every mouthful, of counting every calorie, in a doomed attempt to shed pounds.  There is abundant medical evidence to show that you will be healthier if you are 'overweight' and active, than if you are 'underweight'* and active.  Far better to eat what you want, when you're hungry, and not feel miserable about denying yourself.

* in quotation marks because these terms are based on the much-derided BMI system.

9. Throw out the scales
Weight really means very little; muscle weighs more than fat, for example. This is something most of us know theoretically, but in practice find it harder to apply to our own bodies. But I don't think it's a coincidence that I have never really fallen prey to body negativity, and I have also never owned a pair of scales.  Simply put, I don't give a shit how much I weigh.  My body works just fine at the weight it is, so why would I want to change it?

10. Fat is a feminist issue
Susie Orbach's seminal 1970's feminist text is as true today as it was then.  Ultimately, refusing to participate in patriarchal ideals of what constitutes a 'correct' or 'attractive' female body is a feminist response.  Choosing to love yourself and your body is a massive "fuck you" to the oppressive forces that work in society. 

Why not fitting into a size x isn't the end of the world

I'm a size 16 - a curvy, big-boobed, big-bummed, hourglass of a size 16 - and while it is, theoretically, a 'straight' size (e.g. available from mainstream retailers rather than just plus size retailers or those few high street stores which sell size 18 and above), it can be difficult to shop for if you're not savvy.  Over the years, trying to dress a body that doesn't quite fit into society's idea of "correct" has meant that I've learnt all sorts of lessons about shopping, and I'd like to think that some of them are true of shopping at any size.

Even though it is common knowledge - and common cause for complaint - that sizing is screwy from one retailer to another, too many people seem to think that the little label inside their clothes labels them rather than the garment.  We may know that a size 12 from Marks & Spencers will not fit like a size 12 from Zara (with the former tending to run big and the latter ludicrously small), yet so many women invest a huge amount into those tiny scraps of fabric sewn into a collar or waist. 

It made me sad to hear, on a recent shopping trip, a woman say she wouldn't buy a dress that fit great and looked better because it was a size 16 and she was a size 12.  Partly because it implied that there was something wrong with being a size 16, but mostly because it meant she gave up the chance to wear a lovely item of clothing that she had really liked on the hanger.  This took place in H&M, which is notorious for weird sizing.  In my wardrobe, I have H&M clothes running the gamut from a t-shirt marked S, to size 16 dresses, to a pair of size 20 trousers.  Those trousers hang next to my New Look skinny jeans in a size 14, and both items fit me really well and always garner compliments.  Does the fact that one label says 20 and one says 14 mean anything?  Am I somehow magically thinner in the jeans, or heavier in the trousers?  No, and no, and no!

Still concerned about the size on the label?  Maybe this anecdote will make you feel better.  I used to know a woman who worked in a clothing factory that made garments for Dorothy Perkins (before all such work was outsourced to factories in China and Bangladesh, but that's another post entirely...).  Say they had a rail of 200 size 10 blouses, but only 199 size 10 labels left; well then, one of those blouses would be labelled size 8 or 12, whichever label they had spare.  I remember this story whenever a size 18 is squeezing me in places it shouldn't: most likely, it's not a size 18 at all.  But would it matter if it was?

When trying on something that doesn't fit, it is tempting to believe that the problem is you, that the issue is your body, and that if only your boobs were smaller, or your legs longer, or your hips narrower, then all would be well.  We almost never blame what is obviously at fault: the garment itself.  Designed for a narrow range of shapes (almost certainly none of which match your own unique and wonderful one), the clothes on the high street are the problem, not you. 

It is so much more important to know what styles suit your body and to have a decent idea of your measurements.  After years of making some fairly heinous fashion mistakes, I now know exactly what styles will look good on me and what styles just won't fit my body; this means I can flick through the rails and pick out things to try on that I know are likely to look decent, regardless of the actual size.  This is especially handy in charity and vintage shops, where it pays to look at all sorts of sizes that you wouldn't usually associate with your own body.  Who knows what gem you will find in the size 14 racks, even if you're a size 18 (or, indeed, vice versa).  It's because I have a strong sense of what will suit me that I have such a range of sizes in my wardrobe, from teeny tiny cardigans to stretchy smock dresses in a 12 to tea dresses in a size 18, all of which fit me perfectly and sizing be damned. 

Ultimately, there should only be two considerations when buying new clothes: do you think it looks good, and does it make you feel good?  If the answer to both of those questions is "yes," then the number on the label matters not a jot.

Day 17: Taking a diversion

I was singularly uninspired by today's Blog Every Day in May topic - Journey To Work - as I drive to school, so it's therefore difficult to take photographs or notice anything much beside the road, and my route takes me through two council estates and an industrial estate, so it's not exactly inspiring or picturesque.

However, I didn't want to take a day off (well, I kind of did, but Mrs Tibbs Teacups would not let me) so I decided instead to take a diversion to highlight just a few of the great posts that I have stumbled upon because of #BEDM. 

One of my favourite things about this challenge has been the many, many amazing blogs I have found and the fab people I have 'met'.  More than ever, I am feeling part of a blogging community... and shock horror (as I am by nature rather misanthropic and loner-ish) I am liking it!

Oh Gosh Em's amazing bunting quilt (image from her blog) has gone straight to the top of my 'To Make' list. I know a small person with a birthday coming up, and I'd love to make this for her.

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with Just Me, written by the mysteriously named The Girl.  Her prose style is brilliantly funny and honest, and her posts are always incredibly well written.  I would love to be able to write as beautifully as she does.  When Baking Goes Wrong made me laugh out loud, and her post on being in a long distance relationship made me punch the air with recognition ("Does having The Person in my life make my life better? Absolutely, 100% no doubt about it.  But do I need The Person in order to lead a fulfilled and happy life? No, I do not. I have friends... I have family, I am capable of keeping myself amused.  And this is how I cope with being apart from him. By knowing that when we are together things are super mega awesome, but also knowing that things can still be awesome without him there."  I basically could have written exactly that about me and The Boy).

Ashleigh's post for Day 8: My First Job was incredibly funny and jaw-droppingly horrifying in equal measure.  Do take a read.

Finally, The Nearsighted Owl is not Blogging Every Day In May but I came across the blog by following a link from another #BEDM-er (can't remember who though!).  It's definitely gone straight to the top of my list of favourite fat acceptance blogs, and once I finish this challenge I am going to take a look at her How To Be A Fat Bitch eCourse.

Day 5: Fit, healthy... and fat

Today's Blog Every Day In May topic was Fit & Healthy, which sort of ties in with a topic I've wanted to write about for a while: a follow-up to last year's post about the politics of fat. 

I enjoy quite a bit of thin privilege within the fat acceptance movement; wavering between a size 14 and an 18, I am able to fit into most straight-size ranges and have a whole host of fashion choices that women size 20+ don't.  However, relative thin privilige is all very well but there's no denying that, in the eyes of a society which values and promotes an extreme, size 0 version of skinny, I'm fat and, for the most part, that has been fine with me. 

I don't recall a time when I ever felt thin.  But I've worked hard to resist external messages about bodies, so I also find it hard to recall a time when not feeling or being thin has seemed like a big problem.  I have never dieted.  I have never limited my consumption of food.  I have never tried to exercise my way to thinness (which is not to say I don't exercise; I do and always have, because it feels good.  I just don't do it to lose weight). 

I've always considered my fat acceptance to be political; feminist in fact.  Have I always loved my body?  Hell no, but I've always felt that to diet, when I'm perfectly healthy, would be to fall for a lie which is, at its root, deeply misogynistic.  The lie that, if only you can attain the 'perfect body', all will be well.  The lie that encourages women to take up as little space as possible; to devote their time and energy to becoming thinner instead of, I dunno, doing something of actual value instead.  I've always maintained that if my body can do what I need it to do - if it is fit and healthy - then why deny myself?  A body can be unhealthy at any size.  Mine - with every part functioning well; with a recent full physical exam proving that I'm as healthy as can be; with its ability to work out in the gym or climb a mountain - is demonstrably healthy*. I thought I had this body positive, self-love thing down pat.

But just recently I look in the mirror at my body and I am sure it is bigger than before.  It wobbles.  It doesn't make me feel good to see it.  When I'm lying naked in bed with my boyfriend and he tells me I have a beautiful body, I can't help but give him the side-eye.  Can't he feel my belly, squashed up against his taut, muscular stomach?  How can he think that my hips, my back, my arms, with their excess flesh, are "beautiful"?

The always-wonderful Bethany at Arched Eyebrow wrote a fabulous post about fatphobia recently and included in it this great line: " it doesn’t matter how much work we do on ourselves, how high we drag ourselves up the ladder of self-love and confidence, we will always exist in this environment that hates our bodies."  When you live in a society that is constantly sending out messages about how the 'ideal' body looks, it's easy to internalise those messages without realising it.  I think I have briefly succumbed to society's fatphobia.  I need to start dragging myself back up that ladder of self-love again.

* Although I often wonder: if I was thin, would I feel the need to write that list. Would I need to 'prove' my health?

Last week of freedom

I may be entering the last week of my summer holidays (sob!) but it promises to be an action-packed one.  I am very much looking forward to...

... going to Summer Sundae festival tomorow.  Not the best line-up this year (although I cannot wait to see Micachu & The Shapes again), but it's always nice to have a festival up the road;
... popping into the Handmade in Leicestershire fair at Belgrave Hall before Summer Sundae;
... cycling in Derbyshire on Sunday with my brother;
... cocktails with the girls on a 'school' night;
... seeing my niece and giving her the lovely handmade doll I bought her in South Africa;
... visiting Salford Zine Library at it's new home;
... watching the Manchester Pride parade next weekend;
... the Plus Size Clothes swap in Leeds next Sunday.
... seeing Grizzly Bear in Nottingham.

Book review: It's So You

Subtitled '35 Women Write About Personal Expression Through Fashion & Style', this is a wonderful collection of essays and recollections on the subject of clothes and make-up.  "Fashion is self-expression; Fashion is identity; Fashion is feminist," declares the blurb. 

Edited by Michelle Tea (who I have such a girl crush on: check out her regular column on xojane about her quest to become inseminated[1]), it features thirty six women – mainly writers but also ‘model/mechanic’ Jenny Shimizu and musician Kim Gordon, of Sonic Youth fame - musing on the often thorny topic of how clothes and make-up contribute to women's personal identity and expression of self.

Tea is a San Francisco-dwelling writer and that fact is reflected in the range of contributors, who tend towards the alternative.  But beyond that limit, the book features a wide range of voices, experiences and ages.  I particularly enjoyed Diane di Prima's (b.1934) essay Ideas of Fashion from the Great Depression to Today. 

A couple of other favourites were Felicia Luna Lemus' S.W.A.K. - a wonderful 9 page rumination on red lipstick, taking in personal reminisence, lesbian politics, Aztec history and more besides - and A Torrid Affair by Cookie Woolner, who writes, "The mainstream fashion and beauty industries exist to keep us alienated from our bodies and desires, in a constant cycle of consumption and false expectations.  Fashion should be about joy and expression, not fear and loathing - loving and truly inhabiting our bodies, not hiding from them."  It had me nodding along frantically.

I loved this book, which got me reflecting on the style choices I have made over the years (and made me excited about trying out red lipstick for the first time in my life: turns out it looks great, who knew?).  Be prepared for it to change the way you perceive the contents of your wardrobe and your make-up bag.

---

[1] A word which I always mix up with ‘exterminated’, bringing to mind images of Daleks with turkey basters.

The weekend ahead

Despite some fun plans here in Leicester, I am kind of wishing I was back in the north this weekend, due to two great-sounding events being held in Bradford and Leeds.

Tomorrow in Bradford you can visit the Zine Extravaganza, run by newly-formed zine collective Loosely Bound.  So, I lived in Bradford for 12 years and it was lame; when did it become cool enough to host a zine collective?  Colour me impressed.

On Sunday in Leeds is a plus-size clothing swap organised by Kirsty of Fatty Unbound blog and Make It Work zine.  There will be cake, which is all it takes to get me excited about an event.

Here in Leicester I will be visiting the vintage fair which regularly visits the cathedral tomorrow, seeing lots of friends, and going to see Gypsy at Curve on Sunday (I am hoping it will be very jazz hands; I do love a good musical).  Wherever you are, hope you have a fabulous weekend.

Make it work

I had the most amazing response to my recent post about fat and fatshion (my favourite comment was via Facebook, where my friend wrote, simply, "massive love for this mate.")  One fatshion blog that I've discovered recently and immediately enjoyed is Fatty Unbound and the blogger behind it, Kirsty, has just published a DIY fatshion/craft zine called Make It Work. 

My first forays into writing for an audience were as a fanzine writer and editor in the mid-nineties, when I published indie zine Venus, and rubbish poetry and teenage navel gazing zine Release The Pressure.  So it was with a Proustian thrill at the badly photocopied pages and typewritten text that I received my copy of Make It Work in the post earlier this week.  And Kirsty had me nodding along maniacally, muttering "YES!" under my breath, to her introduction to the zine:  To make it work... is an act of resistance.  It's refusing to be pigeonholed, to fit into the limited aesthetic offered to fat people.  It's about acknowledging that I have as much right as a straight sized person to experiment with colour, texture, pattern, silouhette and shape, without being made to feel inferior in the process.  I have no obligation to dress my body for anything else apart from myself.  Amazing!

As well as fat acceptance polemic, the zine has some fab how-to's, including crafting on a budget, how to organise a plus-size clothes swap, and instructions for DIY sweater clips.  It's fired my enthusiasm for creating (and not just clothes: I totally want to get back into zine making now).  Buy it here on Etsy.

"You're not fat, you're curvy": some thoughts on the politics of fat

I was troubled by some of the responses when Karl Lagerfeld recently said that Adele was "a little too fat".  I mean, obviously it's a rude, dickish and horrible thing to say, and obviously Adele is absolutely beautiful, but a lot of things I read online were aghast that he'd dared to use the 'f' word - fat - and overlooked the really problematic word, "too". 

Close analysis of Lagerfeld's comments isn't what I'm here for though; I'm interested in the reactions to the 'f' word.  Because I think it's comments like "you're not fat, you're just curvy," that help to contribute to a culture in which the accepted formula is that fat = bad; fat = ugly.  People are so scared of the word, the concept, that they won't use it.  Whereas actually, as a statement of fact, it's often true.  I am fat, in that - like Adele - I have a higher proportion of subcutaneous fat than that which society currently designates as desirable.  I am fat, in that I wear size 16 clothes not size 6.  I am fat, in that I have 36H boobs which add a huge amount onto my weight and therefore my BMI.  Do I feel that being fat is a problem?  No, I really don't.

One incident apart, I have never felt less of a person or less attractive because of my weight (that's not to say I'm brimming with self-confidence, I'm really not, but if I ever feel unattractive that's more to do with not perceiving myself as pretty than due to my size).  I've only ever once been fat-shamed, by my friend's brother at her wedding in Italy.  Even though he's widely acknowledged to be a bit of a twat, even though I don't value his opinion too highly, it still hurt, but it didn't make me feel ashamed, as I suspect it was meant to.

Claire, who blogs about fashion and baking (amazing combination!) at French For Cupcake.

Until fairly recently, there were very few places to see women's bodies in all their various shapes and sizes.  The rise of the fatshion blog has changed all that.  While I've been plowing my particular fashion furrow of dress and cardi for a long time, I can't tell you what a difference it's made to my confidence seeing women my size, and over, wearing similar things to me and looking amazing.  It's so rare to see anyone over a size 8 on TV or in magazines that until discovering the world of fatshion, there was nowhere I could see a true reflection of how clothes might look on my body.  A few of my favourites include Australian blog Frocks And Frou Frou, the Northern Irish French For Cupcake, and in England Messy Carla, and Arched Eyebrow.  The last two, particularly, are expressly stated to be fatshion blogs.  I particularly like the announcement on Arched Eyebrow: "No diet talk: IDGAF what you're eating so I don't expect you to GAF what I'm eating."

Bethany from Arched Eyebrow.  I have such major coat-envy.

I know too many people who have spent years on the Weight Watchers/Slimming World treadmills, losing weight then gaining it before starting the whole sorry process all over again.  The whole idea of self-denial in relation to food is anathema to me.  If I want a biscuit, I eat a biscuit.  And then another one.  Because for me, being fat, being curvy, whatever you want to call it, is preferable to living a miserable existence trying to get into a size 10.  My body is healthy and happy: it can climb mountains, cycle 15 miles, swim endless lengths.  Karl Lagerfeld would no doubt think that I, like Adele, am a little too fat.  But I really don't care.