New Glasses

I know it seems like I’ve been on a shopping spree recently, but these glasses were ordered from an American online optician about four months ago and only just arrived today. Long, boring story behind the delay, but who cares! I have pretty new glasses!

These are they:

I have another pair, too:

These are much more delicate than the sturdier plastic pair, and will be saved for special occasions and stuff.

I have aways thought that my face was too “big” and “round” to pull off interesting, funky glasses. It turns out they look pretty great on me, and I’m pleasantly surprised.

Waddya think?

Hats and Honey Pots

Reproduced from my other blog, Shelves In My Mind. Originally posted on 4 January 2008.

A lot of thoughts have been whirling through my head recently, with regards to New Year’s resolutions and dieting, accepting oneself regardless of appearance, and why all this is so important.

One of the many songs that my children and I sing together is from the Winnie the Pooh movies:

When I up, down and touch the ground
It puts me in the mood,
Up, down and touch the ground
In the mood for food

I am stout, round and I have found
Speaking poundage wise
I improve my appetite
When I exercise

I am short, fat and proud of that
And so, with all my might
I up, down and up, down to
My appetite’s delight

While I up, down and touch the ground
I think of things to chew, like honey, milk and chocolate!
With a hefty happy appetite
I’m a hefty happy Pooh

With a hefty happy appetite
He’s a hefty happy Pooh

I have fun singing this song with my kids. We jump up and down, proudly pat our bellies and eat pretend food with great relish. For us, it’s a song about enjoying our bodies: we enjoy moving them, we enjoy their appearance, and we enjoy the food that fuels them.

The way I see it, we all have a role in our lives. In the stories, Winnie the Pooh’s main purpose of existence was to eat honey (and other things). He’s a bear. That’s what bears do.

What do I do? What is the purpose of my existence? Is it to worry about my weight all the time? Is it to stress over a number — whether it’s on a scale or the back of my dress? Is it to ignore my body’s needs and view it as an enemy? NO.

I wear many hats in my life: woman, daughter, mother, wife, manager, employee, nurse, organiser-of-the-troops, teacher, church-goer, chauffeur, the list goes on. I refuse to allow myself to slip on the hat of self-loathing or perpetual dieter. I’ve been doing pretty good lately.

So, as we stand on the cusp of a new year full of promise and many good things, I wish for us all to be more like Winnie the Pooh, do a few star jumps, and enjoy that pot of honey.

More Fatshion. With pictures!

I was inspired to go bargain hunting over the weekend. I’ve been wanting some specific items of clothing, and amazingly, I found them!

With the weather (supposedly) warming up for the summer, I’ve been searching for a great denim skirt. The last denim skirt I owned is now 6 years old and a size or two too small, and I really missed it. After searching in several charity shops (I am allergic to spending too much on clothing), I found this great denim skirt. Originally from New Look’s Inspire range (aka Fat Women Clothes), I paid £2.99 for it.

I love this skirt. It is made from stretchy denim, which I normally HATE in jeans, because they always fit perfect in the morning and start falling off of me by mid-day. But in skirts, it is a perfect material. The skirt has a sort of pencil cut to it, but because it’s stretchy, I have a lot of flexibility of movement in it. I also love the length. I know some more fashionable people than I am have said that mid-calf cut-offs can stumpify a person’s legs, but I think it’s a great length. I have been wearing it every day since I bought it, and I don’t think I’ll slow down until winter. I luffs it muchly.

The top is also from New Look, but bought new. At £8.00, I thought it was a good price, and I think it’s one of the cutest tops I now own. The colour cheers me up, the ruffles around the collar and rouching on the sleeves are just adorable. I feel very feminine in this top, but it’s incredibly comfortable at the same time. It’s long in the waist, and the sleeves aren’t cut too short. I have tops with too-short sleeves, and they tend to bunch in my armpits; not ideal on hot days, really!

I wore the skirt and top together today, along with some awesome shoes I bought at PayLess when I was in the States a few months ago. This entire outfit cost me about £16.00, after exchanging dollars to pounds on the price of the shoes. Not bad, right?

My rings.

I was cleaning out some boxes this afternoon, and found an old jewelry box. My jewelry was getting scattered around the house, so I collected it all into one place. I’m sure it will get scattered around again within a few weeks, but for the moment, everything is where it should be.

Except for my wedding rings. I haven’t worn them for about five years; having three children under four makes it hard to shift pregnancy weight, I guess. I’m definitely heavier than I was when I first got married, and I don’t think I’ll get down to that weight again. My rings should be on my finger, but they are in that jewelry box alongside other jewelry that I don’t ever wear.

What I would really like is to get the rings enlarged. However, this is where one of my body hangups come into play: I have big fingers. My ring finger is a size 10 now, and it’s hella difficult to find women’s rings in that size. Enlarging my rings will be a permanent, expensive commitment to my current size. If I go ahead and alter the rings, I will be acknowledging to myself that this is my weight now.

I don’t know why this is harder for me to do than it is to buy clothes in bigger sizes, but it is. I really want to start wearing my rings again, though, because I love them and they are beautiful.

Fat on Stage — Update

I auditioned for a few parts on Thursday. I didn’t get the romantic lead, but I got a decent part anyhow. Huzzah! I am now a “dainty little fairy”, otherwise known as Leila. I am very pleased. Thank you for all the well-wishes.

First cake post is up. Quick! Go read now!

So far I have made 7 cakes. The first cake post is up. Enjoy!

30 Cakes in 30 Days

I’ve started a new blog: 30 Cakes in 30 Days. The entries will be on a time lag, about a week behind from real time, and a new entry won’t appear until next week so I can build up enough entries to get the ball rolling, but I’m very excited to start.

If you are like me — not much of a domestic goddess in the kitchen but still enjoy baking a few cakes here and there, check it out. Recipes will be included, along with real-life experiences and mishaps that go along with amateur baking.

More to come.

A new motto.

Latin for “Beauty and Determination”. I’m not the best at graphic design by any means, but purple is my favourite colour, so there you go.

Latin motto designed at this site, and logo created at this site. Fun!

Fat on Stage.

I love to act. When I was in high school, I got involved in the Drama Club, became an official Thespian, and even got a leading part in my senior year. Once I moved to England, I performed in a terrible version of Fame! (you try singing your solo alongside the soundtrack of the musical because the drama teacher couldn’t get a band together in time for the performance) and then got married and had kids.

My acting days were on hiatus until last year, when I joined an amateur operatic society and was in The Mikado. I was in the chorus and had such fun! I am planning to audition for another society’s show — Iolanthe.

Here’s the thing. I’m an American living in England, so I know that my accent will stick out. I’ve spoken to several people who assure me that my accent won’t hinder my chances of getting a part. I am a good singer and a pretty good actress, all told. I’m good enough for community theater at any rate, and you’d be surprised at how good these people really are. I’m auditioning next week for a couple of parts — one of which is the romantic lead — and I am really nervous. Not because I don’t think I can do it; I love being on stage and I know I can pull off whatever part I have.

No, I’m nervous because I know that there is a distinct possibility that my size will be the determining factor rather than my talent. I can work on my accent, but I can’t change my size.

It’s the only time that I feel really vulnerable about how I look.

A rant.

Reproduced with kind permission from an awesome woman who posts on one of my forums:

I’m getting really tired of all the “rules” women are supposed to follow to be seemingly presentable in public. It’s not just what’s been said in that thread, it’s everything, everywhere. It’s not good enough that your hair is clean, it shouldn’t be thrown into a ponytail or up in a clip, because that’s lazy. Sure, you showered and smell alright, but are you wearing make-up? Are you wearing make-up that covers your blemishes and highlights your eyes and gives you the appearance of being fresh-faced and young? Your lipstick should last all day, you know; by the way, you should wear lipstick, gloss or chapstick isn’t enough. Have you plucked your brows? How about your crotch, is that hairy? Take care of that, because if for any reason you need to remove your panties, you want your poon to look pretty. Shave your legs, and while you’re at it, tan them. Oh you don’t have time to sit in the sun? Use the bottled shit. Don’t go too overboard though, or else you’ll look orange, and that’s also bad. How nice are your clothes? Do your shoes match your outfit, and do they have 4 inch heels? Are your nails painted in a pleasing shade? Do they match your toenails? Don’t show your toe hair! You need this wrinkle cream. And this under-eye cream. And hey, how about some Botox? Or this cream that’s like Botox without the surgery? Because old people are ugly, you know. Wrinkling isn’t cool. Dye your hair! Nobody wants to see that gray shit. Don’t dye it the wrong color though, or you’ll look trashy/punky/cheap. Lift your boobs! Not that high, you slut! Wear this body-shaper to keep your tummy and love handles in check, because fat people are disgusting.

Whatthefuckever. If you don’t like something about the way I look, don’t fucking look at me.