Team Slouch continues for AW17

Team Slouch continues for AW17

I’m Team Slouch, maybe more so these days than I am Team Stripes, shock horror. I love to wear draped, easy, oversized pieces. It’s become my thing in the last few years. The combination of a deep neckline and slouchy dress or an oversized maxi knotted up to show some serious leg is just really sexy cool to me. There’s a conversation that says that plus size women shouldn’t wear ‘oversized’ shapes to avoid looking bigger. God forbid, right? Why would ANYONE want to look fatter than they are? Forget that. Forget all that they told you. First of all, why is every fashion aim to look smaller, leaner, thinner? Why is that the only outcome we are told to…

Being kind to yourself

Being kind to yourself

This was a conversation that I started on Instagram yesterday. It needed to be continued, so here we are. I’ve been watching a lot of YouTube lately; tutorials, workshops and loads and loads of LadyLike (by Buzzfeed). Inspired by the people there and their willingness to give it a go, I thought I’d grab some video while snapping an outfit photo in my office… Well well well. Wasn’t that interesting. You see you can fake defined jaws and chiselled features in a photo but there’s no tricking a video camera. Not from that angle anyway. There’s certainly no hiding when you start talking or moving around. It freaked me out, to be honest. Why? Firstly, I knew I’d put on…

Growing up fat.

Growing up fat.

There’s a saying that goes ‘once a fat kid, always a fat kid’ and it would make me cringe. Why should being a fat kid, a fat adult, define me? But recently when it came up in conversation again, I realised that it’s true. When you are fat, for whatever length of time you get an insight into how this world treats fat people. You remember when no one found you worth a second look as a date, or worse, only saw you behind closed doors. You know what it is to worry that the sea saw won’t ever go up for you. You believe, for a while, that you can hide your fatness from the world, but they always…

Doing what feels good vs. what serves you.

Doing what feels good vs. what serves you.

Over the past couple of months, all of 2017 really, I’ve been questioning the decisions I make about how I spend my time. Who, what and where I invest it in and why. There have been some interesting things to acknowledge along the way. The main one being that more often than not, I was choosing to do what felt good vs. what served me. I think the professionals call it instant gratification. Well, it was at work over here. I saw it in the choices I was making with my body and the way I interact with people. The relationships I was developing and investing in and the outcomes for me. It turned out that while most of it…

Yup, I must really annoy you.

Yup, I must really annoy you.

I must really annoy you, huh? Me and the way I won’t let you tell me what to do. The woman I am must push your buttons. I look at you, the faceless, and I stand determined, in spite of everything you said is broken about me. That must get to you. But I won’t be sorry for who I am. I won’t bow down to the lies you tell me about my worth, my body or what you deem acceptable. I bet that annoys you. And, to be honest, it’s part of why I do it. Annoying you is a part of having the chance to be free. Not being afraid to let you down or disappoint you means…

34.

34.

How very Adele of me. Thirty-Four. Written just like that as if it will summarise all that this year has been and all the future could be. It’s my birthday, could you tell? Today I turn thirty-four years old and I have feelings about that. Not the usual feelings, I don’t think, but then I’ve never been 34 before. You see, I don’t care about getting old.  I don’t care about ageing. I don’t care about wrinkles or creases, aches and pains. That disregard is a privilege over those whose health isn’t as easy to get along with as mine. But I don’t fear getting old, or being old, I would consider that a gift. That’s not it at all. For…

This morning.

This morning.

This morning, blissfully unaware I am being watched, I stroll back and forward to the bathroom. Times like these I miss my old house and its ensuite. But oh well, we adapt. My bedroom sits atop the lounge room, a mezzanine sort of thing, with about five stairs to take you to the upper bedroom level. As part of my morning routine, I loiter the top story of my house in underwear with music blaring. My current album of choice, Human by Rag’n’Bone Man, requires a lot of singing along. And we all know that singing is better the louder you can push it out. Obviously. Realising my bras were all downstairs in the laundry, damn it, I grabbed my t-shirt…

Why I’m not a ‘not like other girls’ girl, anymore.

Why I’m not a ‘not like other girls’ girl, anymore.

Wow, confusing title, right? My bad. This post is about me being ‘not like other girls’ and why I gave that up and embraced female friendships and empowerment. Taking the time to reflect this International Women’s Day, I wanted to acknowledge where I’ve come from and where I’m going. I’ve always been a Feminist, long before I had the language for it. Long before I knew that wanting to define myself and what I was capable of based on my ability rather than my gender, was feminism. I knew it annoyed me that my brother wasn’t immediately involved in tasks at my Grandmother’s house. I couldn’t understand why people didn’t believe that my mother rode motorbikes, but deferred to my…

I’ve put on weight, and people are weird about it.

I’ve put on weight, and people are weird about it.

It’s true. I’ve put on weight, and people are weird about it. But not in the way that you’d think they would be. Perhaps you’re imagining well-meaning folks giving me weight-loss tips or advice on dieting. Well, nope. That hasn’t happened. What has happened goes a little something like this; Me & Them: Some description of conversation, turns towards gym or eating or wine or cheese. Or all of the above. Me: Yeah, I’ve been feeling it since I hurt my foot, I’ve put on a fair bit of weight. Them: No you haven’t, you look beautiful. No way. Me: Well, actually, I literally have. It’s not a thing, it’s a fact. I’ve put on weight. Them: Nooooo. No way. Seriously.…