This post is long overdue. We took the pictures for it on a beach day with my niblings way back in May, but I’ve been putting off writing about it because we took so many pictures that day that I was dreading having to sort through them all just to find a select few for the post.
Let me state that again.
We took so many pictures of me in a bathing suit, in public, that choosing my favourites seemed like too big a job to commit to in my busy schedule.
I didn’t fully realise that fact until lately, but the truth of that is kind of insane. Continue reading →
A lot of people are afraid of wearing white. Some people are definitely spillers–my younger sister and my mum are two of such people–but even those who are able to drink coffee and eat spaghetti without a comical mishandling of the consumption often have a white fabric fear. I’m here to tell you guys that it is not that serious. Really.
Sure, wearing white when you know you’re going to be spending a full day with young kids or helping a friend to move house is probably a bad idea, but think about it; how often do you come home from a typical night with friends or a shopping trip and go ‘Damn, I got stuff all over myself. How did I do that?’ Probably next to never. If that’s the case I hereby formally invite you to be part of The Fearless Summertime White Dress Wearers Society. (Okay, we’ll work on the name.)
Because a white dress in summer time is basically as chic as it gets. You might think that’s an exclusive club that you’re not allowed to join, but I’ve forced my way inside it without an invite so if anyone asks just tell them you’re with me.
When I heard about the Unique Vintage#IAmUnique campaign I loved it. Since I launched my own campaign of #LovingMeIn2015 this year I’ve noticed lately that when I post body positive pictures on Instagram, or similar pictures under this hashtag, I sometimes get girls say they want my body or they want to be me when they grow up. I know that’s likely just the dramatic construct of the compliment, they don’t really mean they would rather be me than themselves, but sometimes I get the feeling that there is a true wistfulness there. Apart from finding that it feels alien that someone may wish that, there’s also the uncomfortable feeling that I don’t want anyone to wish to be anyone but themselves. They are the only ‘them’ that there is. They are their own special person. They are unique. We all are. I, you, they, we.
Part of the launch of the #iamunique campaign involved a lookbook of inspiring people stating one of their most unique identifiers, such as Queen of Heartz Founder and Designer Letty Tennant declaring ‘I am a boss,’ burbankmom.com blogger Jessica Cribbs declaring ‘I am a mother,’ UV’s social media Creative Curator Stan Salas declaring ‘I am fabulous’ while sporting full sublime drag, athlete Marti Davis claiming ‘I am a survivor.’
I could not think of one specific thing that I was, that felt unique enough that it wouldn’t be something someone else might claim. It’s not that I don’t think I have anything special. I feel unique. I tell people I am, and that I’m fabulous, and that I am made of awesome (I also tell people I’m a moron and giant child, so don’t worry about big britches here.) But what is my one thing? My one identifier?
The only thing I could come up with is that I am a contradiction. Not deliberately, not contrary in attitude, but in my life, the way I am contradicting what I do. Continue reading →