every BODY is beautiful

Bodies like these are beautiful. So are larger ones. So are smaller ones. So are shorter ones. So are taller ones. So are differently-abled ones. So are ones who don't even realize it yet.

While I’m very interested in body image, body acceptance, and the Healthy at Every Size movement, I don’t write a lot about body image. Because I recognize that as a thin, able-bodied, white, heterosexual, cis-woman, I carry around a whole lot of privilege, and really, no amount of whining about how someone called me Olive Oyl or “walking toothpick” or “knobby knees” in Jr. High is going to compare to the experience of someone who is told over and over in the media that she is unacceptable, that she is unhealthy, that she is the reason Americans spend so much on healthcare, that she is going to die, that she is unworthy of love, that she is not allowed to wear the things she wants to wear because it “grosses” others out, just to name a few.  I get that that is not my experience, and so I try to take a backseat and be a good ally. I creep on blogs like Shapely Prose and the Rotund and Fatshionista, and I try to get schooled.

That said, I was SO HAPPY to read this post by Ragen Chastain of Dances with Fat (she left me a comment the other day! woo!) over at Jezebel called “Things I’ve Heard About Thin Women.”  Her post is about the tendency of some in the body acceptance movement to tear down those whose bodies are considered by mainstream society as “more acceptable” than fat bodies.  She points out seeing the following comments:

“Stick women just aren’t sexy, it’s just gross.”
“What man would want a twig anyway?”
“It’s just impossible to be healthy when you are that thin, you have to be anorexic or a drug addict to look like that” “Real women are curvy and LOOK like women”

I’ve written about the whole “real women have curves” thing before and concluded that real women come in all shapes and sizes, and real women love themselves, no matter what they look like. I’m not going to try to play Oppression Olympics, or claim that skinny shaming even BEGINS to come close to the kind of fat shaming so many people deal with on a regular basis.  Instead, I’d just like to reiterate Ragen’s point here:

I believe that if you say that you want a size positive world, you have to mean size positive for everyone. That means not making judgments about others based on their size; sticking up for the model being called anorexic with the same fervor you would use to defend a fat women being called lazy; respecting other people’s decisions when it comes to their bodies – even when you don’t agree with them.

That’s what it means to be the change you want to see in the world.

Amen!  Women are a powerful force when we have each others’ backs and are united in the fight for fairness.  Distracting us into some sort of competitive game where we’re pitted against each other trying to define what a “REAL” woman is, or what a truly acceptable, beautiful body looks like is just another way to keep us down.  Don’t let The Man distract us with such petty crap. We are ALL beautiful, we are ALL deserving of love and acceptance, starting with loving and accepting ourselves, and branching out to love and accept each other.

dear vickie b.

Work should be cancelled on spring’s first sunny and 65 day.  Since I’ve yet to get this passed into law, I had to make do with a lunch break spent outside in the sunshine, in a little sculpture garden near my office.  I picked up the latest issue of Glamour and just relished some free time on a beautiful day.

The lovely Lizzie Miller. She makes me want to hang out in my underwear and a tiara. I need a tiara.

One reason I continue to support Glamour, even though I’ve slowly cut most fashion mags out of my life (why is the subject of a post for another day), is that they seem to actually be trying to include a wider variety of beauty and spread a more empowering message, and I like to vote with my dollars to encourage that.  Indeed, this issue featured a shot of plus size model Lizzie Miller, made famous by her naked photo that appeared in Glamour.  It also featured an ad that says “YOU are beautiful” that I’m thinking of taping to my computer monitor.  Other things I liked seeing included a letter from Eve Ensler encouraging readers to embrace themselves as emotional beings, and advice from Ellen DeGeneres to “Find out who you are and be that person. That’s what your soul was put on this earth to be. Find that truth, live that truth, and everything else will come.”  Stuff like that almost makes up for ads targeting me for 0 calorie jello snacks (God forbid a woman consume a calorie!), ads for SlimQuick supplements (yay quackery!), and ads for tobacco products (can’t we just say no to accepting money from companies that peddle death?).

Anyway, this month’s cover girl is Victoria Beckham, with an adorable spread featuring her looking glamorous while cuddling with puppies and schlepping groceries and trying to seem “normal” as a pop star turned fashion icon with a soccer hottie for a husband can seem.  And, as I read through the interview, I found myself wishing Glamour had maybe edited Posh’s interview a bit. Because reading that Posh said this made me mad: Continue reading “dear vickie b.”

I’ll tell you what’s REALLY the worst

This isn't the exact magazine I saw, but you get the idea.

Yesterday I had a snack attack and hoofed it over to CVS to grab some munchies (Cheez-Its are my snack of choice lately, if you must know, and yes, Ms. CSA subscriber occasionally succumbs to the call of the Junk Food).  As I was checking out, I happened to glance up at the magazine rack and was briefly transfixed. I had to ask the cashier to repeat my total.

“I’m sorry, I was so distracted by that horrible US Weekly cover. Worst Bikini Bodies? Really? That woman looks like a human, in a bikini. What the heck?”

The cashier replied, “Plus, it’s December, and she’s somewhere in a bikini! Good for her!”

Indeed.

better left to the pros

My hair BEFORE the incident.
My hair BEFORE the incident.

Some things, I like to say, are better left to the professionals.  Like teaching.  And doctoring.

And now, hair cutting.

I have a difficult time with getting my hair cut.  I’m pretty sure my mom trimmed my hair as a small kid, and the same lady cut my hair from the third grade until my wedding day.  I even drove home from college to have her cut m hair, because she was the only one who understood my cowlicks, my hair’s weird ways of refusing to hold both a curl and a straightening, my baby-fine texture, my scalp’s sensitivity.  She saw me through the great DIY highlighting disaster that left me with ORANGE HAIR.  We went through a lot together.

And then I moved 1000 miles away, where all our friends were also transplants, where I worked with a bunch of dudes.  How was I supposed to find a good stylist?  How would any stylist be as good as Joan?  So I went to MasterCuts and kept to simple styles.  And other women always seem shocked, but seriously, MasterCuts can give you long layers or a classic bob as well as anywhere, don’t hate.  But after a while with MasterCuts, I began to feel that trimming my hair would be easy enough for me to do myself.  Or better yet, since I can’t reach or see the back of my head very well, for Jon to do!  He can even cut a straight line better than I can!  So today we decided to try it… Continue reading “better left to the pros”

untag!

sarah cracks upUntag! Untag!

Have you ever seen this, written by someone on Facebook, as a comment on a photo of herself?  Have you ever WRITTEN this on a photo of yourself?  Have you ever snatched the camera after a group photo, checked out the photo on the tiny screen, and either deleted the photo or insisted it be retaken because you don’t like the way you look?  Has a friend ever shown you a picture of yourself, told you how great you look, or how funny, or what a great moment it was, and all you’ve been able to see is how weird your nose or chin or hair or ears or *insert pet insecurity here* looks?

I have.

It’s because we’re completely irrational about our own appearances.  I think most women go through life with NO IDEA how beautiful they are.  And I’m not just saying that in a completely naive, kumbayah sort of way.  I mean it.  I have friends who look all sorts of ways, and there are moments with each of them when I just think they are heart-stoppingly beautiful.  And as I have begun to realize this about them, about all the people I know, in all their shapes and sizes and with all their hair textures and nose shapes and smiles, and with all their beauty, I have realized that this is the way they see me too.

All of this comes to mind, NOW, because of a post I read over at The Rotund (for friends who have enjoyed Shapely Prose, the Rotund is a site by Marianne Kirby, who cowrote a book with Shapely Prose’s Kate Harding), about Marianne coming to accept having her picture taken.  She writes,

Every time a friend comes to me and says, oh, I have this great picture of you, it is a chance to see what they see….it’s beautiful to have these images of everyone. Different bodies, different people, different lives.

When I hid from photos, I stole that from people. Every time I dodged out of a photo, well, that person might remember I was there but they can’t share it with anyone else the way I can share these images with you.

When I really think about the way I see my friends in pictures, the way I love captured moments, and laughter, and smiles, and the way I am not in any way thinking about their ears sticking out or their chins looking “fat” (this is a common thought of mine, and yes I know, it’s ENTIRELY INSANE), when I really think about that…then I have to think about pictures of myself differently too. Even pictures in which I am making insane facial expresses (I tend to overdo it with the facial expressions) or have horrible posture or just generally look less-than-stellar. When I think about the way I see my friends and loved ones in pictures, I have to see pictures of me differently. I have to be a little bit kinder to myself.

So tag away.  Sure, frame that group shot in which I look gawky and slightly deranged but am laughing my head off.  Because you know what? Maybe a lot of the time I DO look slightly deranged while laughing my head off.  And I can’t just give up on capturing memories because of silly insecurities.  I don’t want to steal that memory from myself or anyone else.  Because I’m learning to look at myself the way I look at others, with a more loving gaze.  I’m sure in 50 years all we’ll be thinking when we look at them is how beautiful we were and what good times we had.

sarahandtree

insane sarah

(To test my own courage, I’m showing my full face on this blog for the first time, and also, I’m including pictures of myself that I have looked at less than generously, not so that you’ll tell me how pretty I am or try to reassure me– I know most of my fears are silly and irrational, but I hope you’ll realize that maybe I feel the same way about YOU.)

off with her…hair

I have this pattern that I always repeat.  I get bored with my hair, hack it off, enjoy the new do for a little while, decide I hate it, and then start growing my hair out again.  About a year ago I had a cute “Posh” bob, but got frustrated with having to straighten it every single day in order for it to look right, and decided to grow my hair out so I wouldn’t even have to blow dry.  Now, it’s just past my collarbone, long enough to startle me when it brushes on my arm because I think it’s a bug crawling on me, long enough to hang down the back of my neck and hold in heat, long enough to get trapped under my body when I’m lying down and necessitate a position change so I don’t feel like I’m pulling my own hair.  Sure, it looks pretty, I’ve embraced my natural waves, it’s healthy.  But I’m beginning to be annoyed.

And I’m kind of wondering if now isn’t the time to just do something crazy and radical and hack it all off for once in my life, just to see what that’s like.  August in Charleston would be a great time to not have hair hanging down my neck.  Jon says I should go for it.  He’s not hung up on long hair as the one way a woman should look, and he’s not one of those retrograde men who tell their women how to wear their hair, which is wonderful, but sometimes infuriating because I’m indecisive and need a little input now and again.  I often wish I could be a contestant on a makeover show, just so someone would do my hair FOR me, without me having to decide.  But I figure, hey, that’s what the internets are for, right?

So, just like with the buying of a purse, I figured I’d ask the interwebz for advice.  I will say that I have fine hair that is on the thin side with a natural loose wave to it that I describe as “wrinkly” because it is neither straight nor curly.

My hair currently looks like this:

It looks like this when I straighten it:

This is the shortest it’s ever been:

And these pics sort of illustrate what I’m fantasizing about doing with my hair:kiera hair

keira-knightley-short-hair-photos-01

Anja Rubiksienna hair

agyness deyn hair

Am I insane? Would this be cute?  Could I pull it off?  Would this exacerbate my irrational insecurity about the shape of my chin?  Would these styles work if I didn’t want to straighten/blow dry? Do you have better suggestions?  Do you know of a kickass stylist in Charleston I should go to?  Right now I go to MasterCuts, and I’m not sure I trust them with radical change of this nature.

Of course I may just chicken out altogether.

real women have…

If you are a human, and you have say, eyes, and have encountered either internet, television, magazines, or advertising in any form, you know that society seems to have certain ideas of what is and isn’t beautiful, what is and isn’t feminine.  And for a long time, this has been basically a very narrow concept that (at least as I’ve assimilated it in my little mind) involves whiteness, fairness of hair and eyes, thinness, but with a certain amount of curve in the breasts and hips, and a certain sort of go-along-to-get-along-ness that doesn’t ever make anyone uncomfortable or threatened or challenged.  I could get all feministy and theory-ish on ya, but seriously, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

And I totally get that there is a natural desire on the part of anyone who falls outside these narrow strictures to push back, to challenge that, to say, that’s not what a beautiful woman is, THIS is.  But, it seems to me, more often than not, those attempts to break out of the narrow bounds of societally accepted femininity end up creating just another narrow definition.  Now, I’ve been in enough internet arguments on feminist and feminist-leaning websites and even just websites for women to know that most of the time, people don’t really mean what they say so narrowly.  And yet statements like “Real Women Have Curves” make me incredibly sad.  Of course, “Some Real Women Have Curves” doesn’t have the same ring to it, doesn’t fit on a bumper sticker or a tee shirt quite so nicely, and yet, isn’t that what most of us REALLY mean when we say stuff like that? Not to mention, if you look at those Dove models, it’s still obvious that there is an upper limit to what they’re going to put in the ads.  Beth Ditto wasn’t chosen to sell us our thigh-firming cream.  You might not think Beth is pretty (many people do!), but she’s still a REAL woman, just the same.

What set me off TODAY was seeing this on Meghan McCain’s Twitter feed: Picture 1

Isn’t the idea that a “real ass” is “big and juicy” just as reductive as the societal idea that an acceptable ass is the opposite?

I understand that many who know me, who know what I look like, might read a post like this and say THIN PRIVILEGE! And it’s true, my body as it naturally is generally fits into the societal standards of “acceptability.”  I know I come from a place of privilege in that regard.  I know that I do not know what it is like to be looked at and judged in the same way someone who struggles with weight or other physical issues does.  Though I would say that I do know what it is like to not love myself, to hate my own body, to cry because of hurtful things that others say about it, I do not see the world the same way as Meghan McCain, who has been unfairly snarked on by people as high-profile as pundit Laura Ingraham for her weight and appearance, an appearance I think is perfectly lovely.

And yet, really, aren’t we all in this fight together? Don’t these narrow standards hurt all of us?  And when we push back against them and try to overcome them and get rid of them, can’t we do that in a way that doesn’t leave just another group out?

The idea that female bodies are objects for public consumption and judgment is really the problem.  Meghan McCain shouldn’t have to defend her “big and juicy” ass to anyone any more than I should be subject to cat calls while standing at bus stops.  The real slogan should be WHAT MAKES A REAL WOMAN IS NOT FOR YOU TO SAY.

no sweat

OK, so, I’ve been wondering whether or not to post about this thing which has changed my life.  Because this thing?  It’s a deodorant, and how lame is that to blog about?  But the thing is, every time I discover something life-changingly awesome, it tends to get discontinued.  SO.  I’m going to tell you, the Interwebz, about it in hopes that if more people buy this amazing thing, the company won’t stop making it.

This amazing, life-changing deodorant is Adidas Cotton-Tech.  Now, about a year ago, I went on a major hunt for an aluminum free deodorant.  I know the aluminum-breast cancer/Alzheimer’s link is unproven, but my thought was, if I can ditch the aluminum and not suffer a loss of quality of life, then it’s worth the peace of mind.  Well, about a week into my experiment with Alba Organics and Tom’s of Maine deodorants, my loving husband informed me that I smelled like a dirty hippie.  So.  That experiment ended abruptly.  After all, I don’t want to smell repellant to the one person I want to snuggle close (this was also the reason a lovely “orange blossom” fragrance did not work out).

On a recent trip to the grocery store (Harris Teeter), I noticed the Adidas Cotton-Tech and thought I’d give it a try.  I was fed up with the Secret I was using, because it was making white marks on all my clothes.  Adidas Cotton-Tech is aluminum free and apparently somehow absorbs the sweat like cotton, while killing bacteria that cause smells.  Dear readers, I had low expectations, but I can now report that the AC has been out in my office all day, and my underarms are not sweating.  Meanwhile my legs, which I habitually cross, keep sticking together.  The Adidas deodorant is also more of a clear-gel type, so it’s not going to make white marks on your clothes.  And I rather like the “green floral” smell.  It’s not baby powdery (though you can get a baby powder variety), which I enjoy, but also not overwhelmingly flowery.  It just smells clean, but not in some sort of Old Spice way, and doesn’t conflict with my other fragrances be they lotion or perfume.  So, please, help me make sure they don’t discontinue this product.  It’s only $3.99 at my local grocery store!

(P.S. If you ever need to guarnatee that you won’t sweat, say, wearing a silk top or something, CertainDri WORKS.)

beautiful bufflo?

Ok, so I know this isn’t really a beauty blog and I’m not planning on making beauty tips a regular feature.  HOWEVER,

I love this stuff, but I have to say, I made a great alternative!
I love this stuff, but I have to say, I made a great alternative!

I feel compelled, in the midst of the economic whatever, and at the height of the summer sun-burn-peel-repeat cycle, to share a little DIY beauty tip.

So, after the major sunburn I blogged about two weeks ago, this lil bufflo is shedding her skin, bigtime.  Often, I just buy scrubs from places like the Body Shop (love them!) to speed up the skin-sloughing process.  However, their delicious body scrubs usually set me back $20, which is a little hard to justify at this point (though seriously, that pink grapefruit body scrub smells so delicious you’ll want to eat your own arm).  I’m also a huge fan of Bath and Body Works Aromatherapy sugar scrubs, which are $16 and also highly recommended. (Salt scrubs are less highly recommended as you might, like me, make the mistake of applying them post-shave and rubbing some serious salt into  your wounds, which is a less than spalike experience.)

So, instead of parting with any of my cash in my quest to quench my lizard-skin, I did a little Googling and made my own sugar scrub.  Seriously, it’s the easiest thing ever.  Just use sugar, brown or white, and oil (olive, baby oil, almond, coconut, sesame…whatever you have will work) in a 2-1 ratio, with a couple drops of perfume oil or essential oil or even lemon juice or vanilla extract.  I used 1 cup of sugar with 1/2 cup of olive oil and a couple drops of Body Shop Satsuma Perfume Oil (it’s $16 but one tiny bottle will last you forever).  I put it in a lil tupperwear and tested it out in the shower today.  It smelled as good as all my other Body Shop stuff, and let me tell you, my skin was super smooth and moisturized so I didn’t even need to put on lotion after my shower. It also worked great to scrub my legs with the sugar scrub, rinse off, and then shave while they were still all slick and oily– no shaving cream necessary, closest shave EVER. Caution, however, as the shower will get a lil bit slippery.

Sorry Body Shop and BBW, but I don’t think I’ll be buying any of your scrubs ever again.