Fat

I want to post a link to Joy Nash's You Tube video "A Fat Rant", since I can't post the actual vid here.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=yUTJQIBI1oA

Joy has a really good point to make about the way overweight people are regarded.

I saw it on Sister Decadence's MySpace blog and had to add a comment
This is an amended and expanded version of what I said there:

Joy is SO right. She might be technically overweight. but she's bloody gorgeous.

My doctor keeps telling me I need to lose weight. I think he's daft. I weigh between 158 and 162lb depending on the time of the month. I eat well, I exercise regularly (bellydancing is extremely good exercise for women and I walk a lot as well) and I look and feel fine if not fantastic.

I do find it depressing though that I (not a hugely overweight woman) find it hard to find clothes that fit and look good. I wear a size 14-16 (that's UK sizes. I think that's 10-12 in US sizes - correct me if I'm wrong, please!), sometimes an 18 depending on fit and style, but I'm finding that the young-and-trendy shops are increasingly not stocking above a size 14, and their size 14 is too tight on me. Conversely, I'm also finding that the shops catering for curvy (normal sized) women start at 16-18, but their sizes are too generous on me, especially in the bust.

One of Joy's YouTube commenters, seanpuckett said that normal curvy women weren't enough of a market to make it worthwhile for manufacturers to make clothes in bigger sizes - "the profit ratio for such large sizes is small. the amount of manufacturing it would take, the additional shipments, the extra assembly line workers would drive prices up,now poor people cant afford it..unfair?" I'm sorry, but I have to disagree. The amount of manufacturing, extra assembly line workers? Bullshit!

A lot of manufacturers seem to be gravitating towards the superskinny hollywood starlet size end of the market. Admittedly, the starlets have thousands of pounds to blow on one frock, but they're a tiny tiny market for exclusive designers. For normal manufacturers, the people who fall into the superskinny category - the size zeros - are very much in the minority among the population in general. The majority of us are not superskinny - that's why we're called "average sized" - for those having trouble with the concept, "average" is a mathematical term which indicates the group "most" people fit into. To spell it out - the majority of the population are I believe (in the UK) in the size 14-18 range - that's a lot of people who don't have thousands at our disposal for a one off party frock, but we do have our regular paychecks - which might enable us to spend a hundred a month on clothes at most. Question is, why are we being fobbed off with stuff that doesn't fit well and doesn't look good just because we're not skinny and can't or won't spend money on designer gear? This is potentially a real moneyspinner for the store that cracks the size issue and yet we're being ignored.

Size zero is not healthy, not attractive and not the way most women are meant to be.

As an aside - my beloved reading over my shoulder passed comment on the amount "regular" women spend on clothes in a month. He thought a hundred to a couple of hundred a month excessive so I rephrased it to a hundred a month tops, which is pretty much the most I would spend on clothes for myself in any one month - not every month, because I can't afford to spend any more than that, I certainly couldn't afford to spend a hundred every month on clothes - not even half that. I pointed out that if I had a full-time well paying job, I'd probably spend more. He told me that'd really piss him off if I wasted money on clothes for myself when there were more important things. Fair enough, but if I had a full-time well-paying job, I'd consider that those more important things would be already taken care of.

I wondered if is this a bloke thing? Is it a lack of understanding of what clothes actually cost? That a hundred quid in one month isn't actually going to buy very much - when you consider that one item eg a skirt or a pair of pants would cost £30 possibly more depending on where you shop. You could spend less, but you'd know it'd be poorly made by some underpaid overworked sweatshop labourer and would
a) not fit properly
b) not look all that good
c) fall apart/shrink/fade/all of the above after not very long at all.
Is it a lack of appreciation of the need for variety in a woman's wardrobe. Most blokes seem to think (mine certainly does) that more than one coat is an unnecessary indulgence without realising that for a bloke, you're wearing pants all the time - you have a coat and it looks good with pants. Women wear a range of different outfits, skirts and dresses of varying lengths, pants, casual, formal clothes, clothes for particular seasons and climates - and one single style of coat is not suitable for every type of outfit.

I wondered if it was the effect of having worn a uniform for work every day for the last few years? Maybe you forget that when you have to wear your own clothes for work and you work in a job where things get damaged, stained, splashed etc you wear things out more quickly than if you had a uniform provided - and these things have to be replaced out of your own pocket. And maybe it's a lack of appreciation of the snidiness of other women, our colleagues who mutter "has she only got one skirt - she wore that last week". It's the spending model we grew up with too - we learn a lot from our mum's spending habits and I've not been set the best example. I feel down quite often for no reason than envy - I envy my friends who earn more than me and can spend money on new stuff just because they saw it and wanted it and bought it without having to worry about the bills. I wish I could do that too.

There are advantages and disadvantages to everything and although I don't have money I have time. Maybe one day I'll have both. I'll drink to that! Cheers!

I'm a designer!

During the holiday, I decided to trawl the internet for wedding ring designs, in hopes that Sean and I would find something we both like.

It was a partially successful search. We didn't even bother with "normal" shops - and a look at most "custom wedding ring" specialists left me rather disappointed. What a lot of very boring designs! Plain bands (mostly in gold or titanium or even stainless steel) sometimes with a narrow band of contrasting metal and sometimes with a single dimaond embedded somewhere. Dull dull dull. I'm sorry if this is your idea of a classy wedding ring, but it's definitely not mine.

Then, I found a lovely website based in the US - Jewelry by Da'oud at http://www.jewelrybydaoud.com/. If you like the unusual, this is hot stuff. Very organic designs inspired by nature - vine leaves, ivy, oak leaves, waves. All good stuff. Then we hit the downside. Apart from having to convert ring sizes from UK to US, they only accept credit cards, and they don't do Paypal. Bummer. Anyway, the designs they featured were lovely, but not quite what I had in mind.

So, taking that inspiration and running with it, skipping and turning cartwheels too, I designed my own that features both the grapevine and corn - both symbols of fruitfulness and abundance that honour our favourite deities, too.

We're off to Manchester this weekend to get our fingers measured and to see if we can find anything else to inspire us. I don't think we'll find anything as perfect for us as this, so we'll try and see if we can find a jeweller who can turn my design into the most perfect handfasting rings we could wish for. Please note that this is my own design, all rights reserved.

My lovely new job!

Yay!

This is what I wanted to blog about last time.

I've just started my second week as a supply Special Support Assistant at a primary school which is conveniently close to home. I love it. I'm working with a child in Year 6 who is so lovely and so positive in his outlook despite being aware that he's not working at the same level as the rest of his class, and despite the frustrations his difficulties are causing him.

I'll probably be working with him until July when he leaves to move up to High School.
The school itself has been very supportive of me - they know it's my first post since I qualified last summer and all the staff and the other children in the class have been immensely welcoming.

It's a shame it's only 15 hours a week, just in the mornings, as I could happily work there all day!
Oh well. Maybe another school will offer me some more hours. I hope so, as 15 a week is just below the Tax Credits threshold, which is going to cause us problems unless either I or Sean can find something to make up the shortfall.

Huh, Parents!

I was going to do a lovely little blog about my new job (yes I have work now!) and how brilliant it is - and about how weird it is that you can go months with bugger all and then get three offers and an interview all within a week.

However, I don't feel remotely like blogging about my lovely new job.

I'm going to blog about my family instead. Specifically my dad.

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. But he absolutely infuriates me at times and last night was I think the most offended I've ever been with him.

Yesterday, they'd dropped our kids off after a day out because both Seán and I were working that day. I was still out when they arrived. Seán got a phone call literally a second before they walked through the door - a lady enquiring about the moot that we run. She was apparently so enthused to be talking to a fellow Pagan (and fellow Pagan parent) - someone who had half a chance of relating to her - that Seán didn't so much as get chance to draw breath let alone apologise for cutting her short and saying "sorry this is a bad time, please can you ring back in a little while". When my parents walked in, they had no idea who was on the phone. For all they knew it could have been a family emergency. They'd have been able to guess within a few minutes that it was an enquiry about the moot, though. My parents left in high dudgeon, insulted at being neglected before he could end the call.

Seán, aware that he'd neglected them because of the phone call immediately sent an email apologising for this and explaining what had happened. My dad's response was to send a very offensive, pompous and high-handed email accusing us of putting the moot before our kids and being less than attentive to them generally.

We sent him a reply telling him how offended we were at him flinging Seán's apology back in our faces with such insulting remarks. As we both felt slightly differently, we wrote our own responses. Maybe we should have left it as I've done so often before.

Something like this happens regularly every couple of years or so. Last time we got let down at the last minute when they'd agreed to babysit and then backed out. I was the one who had to apologise to my mum becuase we'd been let down. Apparently we should have known it would cause them problems. Why say yes when I asked though? Wouldn't it have been simpler to say "sorry, we can't do that" when I asked rather than worry about it and then at the last minute back out.

I just feel like it's always me backing down and swallowing my pride and apologising. I have a bellyful of bile from all the times I've swallowed my pride for the sake of keeping the peace. If I didn't they'd lose contact with their grandchildren, which wouldn't be fair on either side.

Who made the first move when they threatened to throw me out and I ended up moving in with Seán? Yeah, me. This was after they'd snooped through my room, read private mail - a letter from an ex - put two and two together and got seven. My dad ruined my weekend by ringing me on Sunday night demanding I go home and "explain my lifestyle". They immediately assumed the worst - that I was still sleeping with this ex and was letting him deal drugs out of my tent at re-enactment events. They didn't have faith in my ability as an adult to deal with it and behave ethically. I was in my mid twenties when this happened, an age when, all things considered, even if I had had two boyfriends at the same time, one of whom smoked dope - it's really none of their business as long as it's not under their roof.

Despite what he'd said when I got dragged back home after Uni because "they weren't supporting me as a doley scumbag in Manchester while I looked for a job" that they'd respect the decisions I made, they understood I was an adult and they'd respect my privacy, it was very soon back to "Where d'you think you're going? What time d'you call this? You're going out looking like that?" It seemed like they were only able to pay lip-service to the idea that I'm an adult in my own right. Ten years after the big bust up when I moved out, it seems they're still trying to tell me how I should be living.


I ran out of time before finishing what I was intending to say, and since then, my dad has apologised for upsetting me.

That must have taken a lot, and I'm grateful for it.

However, part of me is sure that the same thing will happen again in a couple of years because they seem to forget that they don't have any business telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing.

I get the strong impression that my beliefs are a sticking point. I don't understand what the problem is, because it's something that is never ever spoken of. How can I clear up any misperception they may have if they change the subject and clearly are very keen not to talk about it. In this instance, I feel that it's my mum who has the problem with me being a Pagan. But there's this feeling I get that it's something she's so uncomfortable with she won't talk about it and so whatever misperception she may have isn't going to go away. I wonder what it is they think we do that's so dreadful.

I don't mind advice. I don't mind constructive criticism. What I object to is the patronising and pompous attitude which unfortunately comes so naturally to my dad. It just rubs people up the wrong way and last week I flew right off the handle because it was once too often.

Anyway. What's done is done, and so we move on.